


Saving Remnant

by hypocrite_lecteur



Category: RWBY
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, F/M, Family, Flashbacks, Gen, Horror, Intrigue, Mystery, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Romance, Science Fiction, Suspense, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-10-11 11:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypocrite_lecteur/pseuds/hypocrite_lecteur
Summary: Ruby Rose, now a twenty four year old Huntress, is joined by her uncle and veteran Huntsman Qrow Branwen on a politically sensitive trail to a tiny island in Atlas' eastern seas, where they meet paranoia in a strange enemy, and regret in a familiar face.





	1. Down there

**Author's Note:**

>   
> This cover was commissioned from the very talented Zaheela. Visit [her tumblr](https://zaheela.tumblr.com) to see more of her art.

* * *

Though the number of the Israelites be like the sand by the sea,  
only the remnant will be saved.  
—Romans 9:27

I don’t know the path we will be shown,  
But I know that when I’m with you I’m at home.  
—‘Home’ by Jeff Williams

Paying little mind to the rain and the undulations of frigid water which sent shudders through the _Galahad_ , Ruby Rose stood on deck, satisfied to watch the misted peaks of the Corbin Isles swaying into view, their snows winking in the overcast morning. Mottling the white was bare rock the colour of pumice and below stood spidery conifers whose earthy green at this distance looked like mould creeping over a wall. It was not an inviting destination, and the voyage was lonely. Access was theoretically restricted by the Atlesian government, but few would ever come out to these islands, which formed an archipelago sitting rather cheekily on the maritime border between Mistral and Atlas. Haven had paid a local fisherman in Argus to carry her there in his medium-sized vessel. She scrutinised the approaching land impassively, her signature red hood up, and thought about the man she'd almost killed.

Ruby was travelling on Huntress business, naturally. The mission had come from Mistral; they wanted a foreign agent for the job because a local would be more conspicuous, and the task was politically sensitive. Certainly they were taking no chances with the bellicose Atlas, and Ruby had a feeling that responsibility might be deferred to her were she to fail the assigned mission.

As to that mission: it was an ugly business that potentially had the makings of an international incident. The problem began with the disappearance of a Huntsman's small vessel in the seas north of Argus. It was assumed that one or several dangerous Grimm had become active; but upon investigation by a small vanguard, an alarming discovery was made. The seas weren't troubled by Grimm; rather, they were suspiciously free of them. More worrying was that an Atlas military facility had been operating right under their noses. Rightly or wrongly, Haven chalked up the disappearance of the Grimm and of the Huntsman to the machinations of their northern neighbour. Realising that Atlas was unlikely to be forthcoming on the matter, and not wishing to implicate themselves, the Headmistress of Haven, Myrtle Morgause, made backdoor calls for outside help in their investigation.

As a hero of Salem's War and possibly Beacon's most senior Huntress despite her youth, Ruby was informed of this special mission. She hadn't planned on taking it: the details were thin on the ground, and it could've been a nothingburger. Nations were always paranoid about their neighbours. When it came to her desk at Beacon, she skimmed lazily through the brief until her gaze fell upon a name that made her heart stop.

The Huntsman who had vanished was Jaune Arc. She took the job.

Two days and an express airship ride hence, she once again found herself in the sparse and foggy hills of Mistral. Brought up to speed by the Haven administration, she took a train to Argus and began by scouring the dives and back alleys for information. With a tip from an Atlesian exmilitary bar owner, she was directed to speak with one of his countryman called Percy Violet, a former engineer resident in Argus, alleged to know more about military research than his government would admit. She searched Haven's databases and found that he had been convicted of manslaughter ten years ago and exiled from Atlas; the details of the crime were confidential. Today he was working for an auto company.

Ruby paid him a visit. Violet was living pretty centrally in Argus, a mid-range apartment block on Odin Avenue. He was a stout middle-aged man, shabbily dressed, with erratic curls and thundering blue eyes that twitched neurotically as he declined to let Ruby in. Ruby, who was under instructions to be covert, had come dressed in a casual red blouse and black pencil skirt, identifying herself as an investigative reporter from Vale. It took a little coaxing, but she eventually talked him into answering her questions about Atlas under the pretext of writing an article on military technology. He was wary and restless as he invited her to take a seat on an old sofa the colour of sand. He didn't sit down himself. After a roundabout conversation about weaponry, she broached the topic of military activity in the region and Violet didn't miss a beat in refusing to give a direct answer.

‘Yeah, we did research around here,’ he said. ‘There's a military facility off the coast. But they won't let a reporter in.’

Ruby thanked him for his interview, but her timing aroused his suspicions.

‘You wanted to know about that facility, didn't you?’ he asked. ‘That's really why you're here.’

‘No, I'm writing about Atlesian military technology,’ Ruby repeated woodenly, wishing that she were a better liar. ‘Just wanted to know about local activities.’

Violet glanced around. ‘I thought they shut it down. That stubborn bastard,’ he said.

Ruby raised her hand and said, ‘I'll be going now.’

‘You're not a reporter,’ Violet concluded. ‘You're a spy from Haven. You're going to get us both killed, aren't you?’

‘No—’

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than he lunged at her, brandishing a knife. Ruby dodged him and knocked the weapon from his hand with characteristic swiftness, then kicked him in the chest so he flew into a bookshelf with a groan. She realised as she saw blood on his lips that she had overdone it.

‘I know who you are,’ Violet murmured, his breath heavy. ‘…Huntress. Ruby Rose. One of them took out Salem. Thought you looked familiar.’

‘I'm not a spy,’ said Ruby pointlessly. She moved to help him, but he raised his hand.

‘Don't touch me,’ he panted. ‘You've done enough as is.’

‘I'm sorry.’

‘Don't go to the island,’ he said.

‘Haven thinks the Atlas military have Grimm there. And a Huntsman.’

‘Yeah, I heard—’ Violet moaned. ‘…same story…when…was there.’

‘You need medical attention. Please, I'll help you.’ She pulled out her scroll.

‘Don't—mention my name,’ said Violet.

‘What?’

‘Don't tell anyone,’ he said slowly, painfully, ‘that I told you about this.’

Ruby had just apologised again and called Haven to let them know about Violet's condition as the man on the floor cursed and sunk into unconsciousness. He had lived, but the incident left a bitter taste in Ruby's mouth that was following her to these infamous islands.

So here she was on the sea route to Great Corbin. Her look hadn't changed much since the days of the war: her skirt was a little less dramatic, and her dress was embroidered subtly, almost invisibly, with dark patterns of vines and roses that curled along the upper edge beneath her cream sleeves. Her typical high collar and red trim was preserved, but the showy corset was gone. Her boots were the heavier variety she'd started wearing in Anima, and her legs were guarded against the cold by thick black stockings. The soft, fine-boned face had thinned a little into adulthood; her skin was pale, almost translucent, and the result was fey and androgynous. She was, as ever, bright and distant, on her own lonely voyage. It was always a lonely voyage in any case; but at least this time she wasn't actually alone.

‘You don't look so hot there,’ said Qrow as he stepped up to join her. Ruby had called him up before leaving Vale and asked him to meet her in Mistral; she wanted someone trustworthy with her on a job like this. He was dressed in the reliable grey and black ensemble that had served him well over the years, but the stubbly jawline of his youth had grown out into a modest beard flecked with white.

Ruby turned ironical silver eyes on him. ‘I'm peachy, Uncle Qrow.’

‘No, you're not.’

‘Nothing about Jaune this time,’ said Ruby. ‘It's just I went too far with the Atlesian.’

Qrow laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘It's not like he's dead. And you didn't have a choice.’

‘Yeah, I did,’ Ruby said firmly. ‘I hit him like I'd hit a Grimm. I didn't have to do that.’

‘I guess not,’ conceded Qrow. ‘But it's a dirty job sometimes.’

Ruby picked absently at the rust on the railing. 'Yeah, yeah. I should toughen up.’

Qrow smiled. ‘No, you shouldn't, kid. That's not what I'm saying. Your mother was like that too. Real innocent, strong sense of justice. A little less dorky, perhaps…’

‘Maybe,’ said Ruby. ‘She also died. Isn't that what you said?’

Pulling his flask from his coat, Qrow looked over at the isles as he took a swig for courage. ‘We'll be there soon. Better get prepped.’

Ruby nodded and headed back below deck to fetch Crescent Rose. The clouds were darkening with the threat of rain. Qrow watched as the metal buildings of the Atlesian facility edged into visibility, looming behind a fence only yards from the coast, shimmering in the veil of mist.

* * *

Percy Violet's internal bleeding subsided the day after Ruby visited his apartment, and he remained thereafter in an unused bedroom for housemasters at the Argus branch school of Haven to be questioned about the Corbin Isles. Qrow arrived in Argus swiftly, three days after Ruby's call, and they conducted their interview in the adjacent sitting room.

‘You want to know my story,’ said Violet flatly. His shabby clothes had been replaced with a blue linen shirt and brown casual trousers. Apparently he was being well-treated; Ruby averted her eyes guiltily.

‘That's the idea,’ replied Qrow.

Violet nodded. ‘Suppose I got nothing here to lose if you're going to go up there anyway.’

Qrow raised his flask. ‘That's the spirit.’

Violet stretched stiffly, groaning. ‘Tell your little friend to keep her hands where I can see them this time.’

‘I'm sorry,’ Ruby said quickly.

‘Sorry doesn't do much good for my lungs,’ said Violet.

Ruby pouted, and Qrow said, ‘She's sorry. Let's move on.’

‘Right,’ said Violet. ‘I warn you, this tale has a few ugly twists.’

‘I love a ripping yarn,’ said Qrow.

Violet cracked his knuckles languidly. ‘First off: you ever heard of AMI?’

‘AMI?’ repeated Ruby. ‘Atlas Military Intelligence?’

‘Sure we have,’ replied Qrow. ‘They're Atlas' spy network. Nasty guys to run into.’

‘That's right.’ Violet exhaled deeply before he continued: ‘I joined the military as a engineer but got involved with research after a few years. General Ironwood thought I had a talent for military tech and mentored me. At some point I became aware of our facility on Great Corbin, the largest of the Corbin Isles, north of Argus. Under the stewardship of one Dr. Serge Ormolu, a famed geneticist, it was conducting experiments that even Ironwood didn't know the full extent of. Given the military application of their work, it's not surprising it became a worry.

‘When Grimm began to vanish near the facility, HQ suspected the Corbin scientists were up to something of questionable character. Bet that sounds familiar, right? This was around ten years ago, mind you. Anyhow, HQ didn’t want Haven sniffing about either, though they hadn’t opened their Argus branch at that time and couldn’t project the authority they do today. I was given a special assignment direct from the General to check out the place and determine the truth. I had a spotless record and a good reputation. The transfer could be well justified. All the same, the worst mistake of my life was taking that mission. Might be yours, too. Least this time they're sending a Huntress. You have to understand this was just treated as a routine internal matter for the Atlas military complex.

‘A few weeks laters, I was on the island. Aside from Ormolu, the top people there were an officer called Captain Dolores Chrysoprase, a stiff-necked paranoiac, and Ormolu's collaborator in science and in life, a satirical-looking Faunus named Vere Claret with the white nose of a polecat.'

‘Alright, alright,' Qrow cut in. 'That's enough expositing on the colourful characters of your life. What were these clowns up to?’

‘Recall the aforesaid AMI,' said Percy Violet. ‘Well…’

* * *

The Atlesian steel of the buildings clarified itself as the _Galahad_ passed into shallower waters around Great Corbin. The complex was squat and utilitarian, grey as the skies, with flat roofs and thick, tinted windows. The iron fence was interrupted only by the gate, which was chained shut. There was a modest vessel by the pier: could it be Jaune's?

Before disembarking, Ruby went up to the bridge to talk to Ulrich Blau, the owner of the ship. He was a portly man of around Qrow's age, with black sideburns.

‘We'll return by dusk,’ she said. ‘Will probably a few days mission.’

‘Aye, I'll wait. Don't rush yourself. Haven's paying me enough for a month. Guest rooms below deck.’ said Ulrich. He peered out the windows at the beach. ‘Looks as though we're not the only ones here.’

Ruby followed his gaze and was startled to see another small fishing boat returning to Great Corbin parallel to them; its occupant was an old man in a thick woollen coat and holding a rod. Apparently in a bad temper, he was shaking his head aggressively at the interloping ship.

Ruby frowned. ‘Weird. I guess we'll have to deal with him.’

She was right. The old fisherman called out to Ruby and Qrow as they hopped down to the wooden slats of the pier.

‘Oy, you two!’ He was skinny, with a crown of white hair around a bald scalp, and a voluminous beard. ‘No one's allowed here except Atlas military.’

‘We're Huntsmen,’ said Qrow wearily. ‘We have a licence to go anywhere when Grimm are involved, a mandate which is enforced internationally, sometimes in defiance of your government. And this facility is supposed to be inactive, so someone is telling porkie pies here.’

‘All that legalese doesn't mean you can just go wheresoever you please.’ The old man humphed and flicked his rod towards them.

‘Who are you?’ asked Ruby. ‘Are you military?’

‘I am employed by the military,’ explained the old man proudly, ‘to provide professional catering for the eminent men and women who operate this facility.’

‘You're a cook,’ said Qrow.

‘A military cook. And a three time winner of the Argus Sea Fishing Competition.’

‘Okay.’ Ruby waved at him placidly. ‘See ya.’

‘Not so hasty, young lady!’ cried the old man, paddling towards the shore as Qrow and Ruby. ‘You don't know what you'll find in there.’

'Don't worry, mister fisherman,' said Ruby. 'We've got a pretty good idea.'

The old man carefully stepped out into the shallow waters and hobbled with obvious difficulty towards them. His legs were bowed, and he shuffled ungracefully, stooped over, in worn brown boots.

‘My name,’ he said, ‘is Pelles. And you're not to go to that building.’

‘Jeez, old man,’ said Qrow. ‘And people tell me my posture is bad. Get yourself to chiropractor before you try to take on a Huntsman.’

Pelles grunted dismissively as he slung a rope over his shoulder and tugged his little boat onto the stony beach. ‘Huntsman, eh. You'll be sorry.’

‘Worry about yourself.’ Qrow turned his back on the old man and headed up the beach. ‘Let's make a move, Ruby. Whoever's here will know about us by now.’

They had only walked a few yards up the coast when they heard the sound of plastic thudding rhythmically behind them. Ruby glanced back to see Pelles shuffling behind them, his bucket of fish tip-tapping against his stiff leg, murky green eyes glaring out beneath bushy eyebrows.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Ruby.

‘What do you think?’ snapped Pelles. ‘I'm bringing up the fish to the building. This is dinner.’

Ruby raised her eyebrow. ‘So will you try to stop us?’

‘How would I do that?’ Pelles shook his head. ‘I'm in no right state to fight. Isn't that what your old man said?’

Qrow smirked at his error, and Ruby said, ‘Qrow's not my dad.’

‘Qrow's his name, then,’ Pelles said. ‘And you are?’

With a sigh, Ruby stopped and lowered her hood cautiously, revealing her bob of black cherry hair. It whipped across her face, animated by the wind. ‘I'm Ruby Rose.’

Pelles nodded. ‘There was a Huntsman came here a week ago.’

Ruby's breath caught in her throat. ‘So you saw him?’

‘Saw him? 'Course I did. A tall man. Sword user. Went by name of Jaune. He was seasick.’

‘That's him. Down to the seasickness. Is he…?’ Ruby bit her lip.

‘Alive?’ Pelles shrugged. ‘I only made him supper.’

Exasperated, Ruby stepped closer to the old fisherman. ‘You don't know anything?’

‘Calm yourself, lass.’ Pelles cackled. ‘Your boyfriend is probably alive.’

‘He's not—’ Ruby rolled her eyes at being so easily wound up. ‘How do you know that?’

Pelles affected a nonplussed expression. ‘Obviously because I cooked him a little cod last night.’

The tension flew out of Ruby's body and she slumped with a groan of relief. ‘He's alive.’

Qrow smiled at her, then asked Pelles, ‘What's he doing here?’

‘He came because the Grimm in the waters about here were disappearing,’ continued Pelles. ‘Seemed interested in environmental business.’

‘That's plausible,’ said Qrow. ‘He's Head of Operations at Haven's Argus branch. Plans out and executes regular raids and patrols with other Huntsmen. Always has an eye on Grimm populations and the state of different habitats.’

Pelles' owlish eyes twinkled as he nodded. ‘Aye, he was scouting out the seas when he found us.’

‘So why's he still here?’ asked Qrow.

‘I'll show you,’ Pelles looked back at the sea. ‘It looks like rain. Come with me. If you won't leave, let's go up to the main building. Welcome to the Corbin Military Research Station.’

* * *

‘Dr. Ormolu was conducting experiments on Grimm,’ continued Percy Violet. ‘What kind of experiments, and why, I couldn't tell you in detail, but I'll get to that later. They were keeping a whole bunch of Grimm at the station. Remnant's most dangerous zoo. All off the books, of course. They were a big part of the reason why Grimm were attracted to the place.

‘The trouble with dealing with Grimm as a biologist is that they don't leave corpses. Soon as they die, poof. You have to keep them alive to research them at all, which makes questions of physiology or anatomy difficult, perhaps impossible. Now, Grimm bleed black smoke. You can seal samples of it in specially prepared phials, but it's a tricky process. Some Grimm can be sedated. Some can't. An Apathy, for example, remains startlingly alert through the most powerful sedative while its malevolent influence may guide you into deathly sleep even as you administer the drug. On the other hand, others, like Beowolves and Ursas, respond to sedatives so that genetic samples can be withdrawn.’

‘Hold up,' said Qrow. 'You're telling me they took genetic samples from Grimm?’

Violet grimaced. ‘Surprised? It's perfectly possible. Not even remarkable. Ordinarily, our scientists based their innovations on Semblances. Ormolu's great works had followed this convention in the past—building military machines that could create illusions, manipulate objects, and even alter emotional states of enemy combatants. He took great pride in reproducing the most unique and powerful skills of Huntsmen and Huntresses—but Grimm also exhibit enviable abilities with military applications.’

‘Abilities we should stay well clear of,’ said Qrow.

Clicking his tongue against the palate, Violet shrugged. ‘Atlas has other ideas. And Ormolu isn't your average Joe, anyway.’

‘This Ormolu,’ said Ruby. ‘What was his S—’

‘—his Semblance?’ finished Violet. ‘I'm glad you asked. It's a hereditary Semblance—Ormolu is a branch family of one of the great Atlas bloodlines, the Palatinates, descended from Maud Ormolu, the elder sister of Boris Palatinate, whom you may know as the former ambassador to Vale. His Semblance, as well his son's, is the same as Ormolu's.’ His digression complete, he looked expectantly at his audience.

Ruby shrugged and glanced at Qrow, who was rolling his eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said. ‘Glory to the Kingdom, yada yada. He has the Machinic Eyes, right?’

‘Machinic Eyes?’ repeated Ruby.

‘He sees men as though they were machines,’ said Violet. ‘Like constructed objects. The lines and joints, the marks of their assemblage, the internal workings that grind and pump and flex are all visible to him. Just from a glance, he knows precisely where on the body he could make a fatal incision. Even the invisible workings of Aura and Semblance are often apparent to Ormolu. Some call them the Eyes of God. They can see everything—except colour, interestingly. Now I'm sure you understand why this man was so valuable to the military.’

‘He used this power for his work?’ asked Ruby.

‘Very effectively,’ said Violet. ‘Take a person with a Semblance that lets him create illusory clones of himself. Ormolu could see the source of their formation on the body and the composition of the illusions themselves. He could measure out any chemical combination with enough observation. His family had produced warriors and Huntsmen in the past, but the Palatinate powers were eminently suitable to scientific work too. What seem to us like immutable objects, continuous and indivisible, were just an arrangement of discrete and manipulable parts to him.

‘The Grimm were likewise no more a mystery to Ormolu under his observation. Most Grimm are simple enough creatures, but Ormolu played a key role in expanding our understanding of their physiology. Ever hear the Grimm Dust hypothesis?’

‘Grimm Dust?’ echoed Ruby. ‘Grimm using Dust?’

‘Not exactly. Grimm can't activate true Dust without Aura,’ said Violet matter-of-factly. ‘However, Grimm exhibit a great deal of extraordinary energetic phenomena that raise questions of their biology. How does a Geist possess an object, for example? What marshals that animating energy if not Dust? Presumably they convert Aura and maybe even Dust itself into usable energy for themselves, but because of the difficulties involved in examining Grimm anatomy, scientists use the term "Grimm Dust" as a placeholder for faux-Dust substances produced by Grimm. Very little is known about them, but it's supposed that Grimm aren't capable of exceeding the capabilities of humans. Their powers are destructive—their origin itself is destruction—so everything they create is borrowed from us, from Aura and Dust.’

Qrow interrupted for the second time. ‘Okay, bud, I think I get the picture when it comes to the scientific wonders of Atlas. Didn't these guys exile you?’

Violet sniffed. ‘It was my own fault. I should never have gone to the islands. But we're skipping ahead. Dr. Ormolu clearly realised that there was a basic incompatibility between human magic—Aura and Dust—and the alien powers of the Grimm. So the military application of his project relied either upon including Grimm elements or the simulation thereof. The latter might be achieved by combat robots.’

‘I met an Atlas robot once,’ said Ruby. ‘Her name was Penny and she was totally sweet.’

'There's the first twist in the tale,' replied Violet with an unnerving smile. 'He didn't make any robots.'

* * *

Besides the conifers out of which the peaks lanced and the various mosses and lichens crawling over the rocks, Great Corbin was barren and mountainous. The only fauna were seabird visitors—albatrosses with austere squared-off bills peering into the deep, fat puffins shuffling on the rocks. The Corbin Military Research Station stood below cliffs that jutted starkly over the beach, tucked into a former quarry whose Dust reserves were exhausted during the Great War. It was composed of three structures: a central building with two stories, a dormitory on the western edge of the quarry, and a warehouse at the back that kept vehicles, vessels, tools and a miscellany of military equipment.

Pelles leisurely unlocked the gates and led Qrow and Ruby towards the main building. The two visitors glanced about warily, but the yard was empty.

‘I'm sure you know this,’ said Pelles, ‘but we have dangerous creatures here.’

‘Captured Grimm,’ said Qrow.

‘Something like that,’ Pelles said. ‘You hear about Dr. Ormolu's project?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Ruby.

‘Well, he revived it,’ Pelles explained blandly.

‘Why didn't you burn the station when you had the chance?’ asked Qrow.

‘Destroy the life's work of Dr. Ormolu?’ Pelles affected stupefaction.

‘So he came back here?’ Ruby asked.

Pelles nodded. ‘Who else? He couldn't leave something so important unfinished, could he?’

‘When I see this old bastard I'm introducing his face to my scythe,’ grumbled Qrow. ‘Genius be damned.’

‘You may get the chance in any case,’ said Pelles in an unconcerned tone. ‘I know outsiders don't like Atlesian methods, so I imagine you'd like to arrest him.’

Ruby wasn't sure whether she appreciated the irreverent humour of the old fellow: was he trying to unnerve them or just being disingenuous? Come to think of it, his identity was a mystery as well. Ruby reserved direct judgement on Pelles but anticipated a trap. Pelles waiting to meet them, Ormolu's return, the repeat of the same mistake by the same people: it was all too neat to be true, and the old man barely seemed to believe it himself, such was his cavalier manner. As they neared the double doors, Pelles stopped.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Your Jaune is being kept under lock and key. Dr. Ormolu will want to speak to you before he lets you see him.’

‘Why'd you lock him up?’ Ruby asked.

‘Because he was trespassing,’ said Pelles.

‘How about you?’ Qrow's eyebrow twitched. ‘You're all alone out here. Awful convenient.’ Ruby guessed that he shared her suspicions.

‘We have to eat, don't we?’ Pelles shrugged. 'The other three are always together.’ At last the old man opened the door. ‘This way.’

It was warmer inside. An impersonal hallway of metal walls and bluish plastic floors extended in both directions. Pelles turned right and walked a few yards to the stairs. On the first floor, they were led to a door designated on its face as the portal to the recreation room.

‘They should all be in here,’ Pelles drawled. ‘Get yourselves acquainted and I'll crack on with dinner.’

They entered. The room was large and sparsely furnished: a dining table; a bench upon which rested a coffee machine, canisters of teas, and two rows of mismatched mugs; a small fridge beneath the bench; and a pool table standing forlornly opposite the other articles with only a three-quarters stocked bookshelf for company.

At the table sat the three people they were looking for. A Faunus with graying black hair and a furred white nose, upon which perched silver pince-nez, looked at the new arrivals archly. To his left was a slim middle-aged gentleman with sleek neck-length blonde hair in a ponytail and shrewd reddish brown eyes. Finally, a woman in a dark blue blouse and black trousers with a white pixie cut sat with her back to Ruby. She turned her head, revealing a severe profile and eyes the colour of jade.

‘The hell are these guys?’ she said.

The thin man regarded Ruby curiously. ‘Don't you recognise a celebrity, Major?’ His voice was gentle. ‘That's Ruby Rose.’

‘And you're Dr. Serge Ormolu,’ said Ruby. The thin man nodded.

‘These are Huntsmen sent from Haven,’ Pelles explained. ‘Just came up the beach looking for that Jaune Arc.’

‘Of course,’ said the Faunus. ‘I'm Dr. Vere Claret. Specialist in Grimm biology. And the sourpuss is Major Dolores Chrysoprase.’

Chrysoprase glared at him. ‘These foreigners shouldn't be here.’

Claret laughed in a high whistling tone. ‘I suppose not. Though I'm hardly shocked by the attention. Seems these Huntsmen are as regular as homicides in Vacuo.’

‘So,’ said Qrow, ‘you've come back for your science project.’

‘And you are?’ asked Claret, tilting his head forward.

‘Qrow Branwen. Not quite the big name like my niece here, but don't test me.’

‘Gentlemen,’ said Ormolu. ‘Let's remain civil.’

‘Quite civil.’ Claret tittered. ‘Anyway, in answer to your question, yes. We—that is to say, this crack trio of ours, the old gang—got back together to finish an old job. We've rather improved on our past performance, wouldn't you say, Serge?’

‘Certainly,’ said Ormolu tightly.

‘Your cook says you're performing illegal experiments,’ remarked Ruby. ‘Like last time.’

‘Our cook is a practical joker,’ said Claret. ‘Pelles, what did you say?’

‘Nothing at all, Vere.’ Pelles blew out his beard flippantly. ‘I mentioned the incident ten years ago. They hallucinated the rest.’

‘Oh, what fun,’ Claret laughed. ‘Have no fear, visitors. Those experiments failed. We're merely considering alternatives at present. Simulate the powers of Grimm in less ambitious ways. Granted, we have got Grimm in the basement. They don’t really die unless you chop them to pieces, so our old collection is all still down there, locked up nice and safe.’

‘So no need to worry.’ Pelles grinned toothily.

Chrysoprase, who looked bemused, abruptly spoke up, glaring at Pelles. ‘Just what are you playing at, Ormolu? Haven't we got what we came for?’

‘Patience, Dolores,' muttered Ormolu. 'It appears,' he continued, addressing the visitors, 'that you are in need of a proper explanation.’

‘Look, science guy,’ Ruby said, adopting a low and threatening tone she'd learnt off Qrow. ‘I want to make myself clear before you start confusing me for someone interested in your biology project. You guys are obviously wrapped up in some Atlas politics that I don't really care about. I'm here for two things.’

‘You want blondie back,’ interrupted Claret.

‘I want Jaune back,’ repeated Ruby. ‘Preferably without a diplomatic incident. That's the job. Second is personal. I want to know about someone connected to your research. Someone who stole something from me.’

Ormolu leaned forward and laid his thin white hands on the table. He had sharp, carefully articulated fingers. ‘Who might the thief be?’

‘Mordecai Cinnabar,’ said Ruby.

‘And what business do you have with our national spymaster?’ asked Claret.

Ruby ran her fingers over Crescent Rose. ‘I want to kill him.’

* * *

‘The project was more ambitious than standard Atlesian robotics,' continued Violet. ‘There was an interest in creating something more organic. An interest I can only assume traces back to AMI. They were the ones I got in trouble with when all was said and done. Anyway, when I came to the island I discovered that the intention was rather—controversial. Hence the secrecy.’

‘He was making Grimm hybrids,’ concluded Ruby.

‘Good guess,’ said Violet.

‘I've seen it before.’

‘You're in rare company,’ commented Violet. ‘But yes. The hope was to reverse-engineer Grimm. For national security purposes, of course.’

‘So let's get this clear,’ said Qrow. ‘What we got is a team of kooks making monsters out of Grimm DNA? This has got to be breaking some international regulation.’

Violet smirked. ‘Welcome to Atlas. But the work did go against the council's wishes. Grimm experimentation is forbidden. That's the precedent, anyway. Or was.’

‘Go on with the story,’ said Ruby.

‘The project was unsuccessful. As you may know, Grimm and human biology don't mix well. Humans are individuals, with agency and cognition. Creature of Grimm are purely of darkness. They are anonymous, empty and destructive. They live off our negative Aura. Put them together and—’

‘One has to win,’ completed Ruby.

‘Right,’ said Violet. ‘That's the theoretical problem with Grimm hybrids. The Grimm part would be insatiably feeding on the Aura of the human part. Like a Grimm, it'd be driven to kill; and perversely, it would need to feed on other humans to protect its own humanity. Murder isn't just a possibility but a certainty. If it ever reached that stage, at least. When I came to Corbin, their attempts to incubate such a creature had resulted in the cells cannibalising themselves. Also attracted Grimm like crazy.’

‘So that solves the mystery of the Grimm,’ said Ruby. ‘But what happened to you?’

‘The official version,’ replied Violet, ‘the version you would likely find in a confidential file in Atlas Military Intelligence, is that a rogue engineer murdered members of a research team at a scientific facility on Great Corbin.’

‘And your version?’ Ruby uncrossed her legs and leaned forward.

‘Your friend Weiss Schnee,’ said Violet suddenly. Ruby stiffened. ‘Something happened to her last year,’ he said.

‘She turned traitor,’ Qrow muttered cynically.

‘No.’ Ruby looked hard at Violet. ‘That's not true.’

Qrow cocked his head. ‘No?’

‘I never told you the full story about what happened to Weiss,’ Ruby said. ‘And the only other person who knows is Jaune.’

‘Jaune?’ Qrow leaned in. 'So what happened to her?’

‘Mordecai Cinnabar happened to her.’

'Mordecai Cinnabar?' Qrow sucked in a sharp breath. 'Shit, Rubes, why didn't you tell me?'

‘Language,’ murmured Ruby.

‘Mordecai Cinnabar happened to me too.’ Violet explained: ‘Here's my memory. Off the books, I was ferried by air to Great Corbin. Oppressive place. Met Ormolu, Vere Claret and Chrysoprase. Few others there too. William Akai, a technician and mechanic. Big guy, bald, ruddy, full red beard. Then there was Doc Navy, the cook, and the janitor, Vert Raine. They were tetchy and evasive with me, but I pushed Ormolu and Claret until the latter eventually confessed the aim of the project. Naturally, I reported to the General and he said they'd be arrested. Warehouse had military equipment. Grabbed a shotgun and told the whole crew none of them were leaving my sight until the authorities arrived. Marched them outside.

‘I'll save you the drama and intrigue. Things got bad when we reached the beach. I guess all the negative emotion attracted a pretty big Grimm, one of those long sea dragons. Akai got swallowed, as did Raine. It was a tough fight but survival united us, and Ormolu's Semblance meant we knew just where to strike. Obviously we took it out, but with the pressure on I lost my nerve. I said it was unsafe, that we had to kill the Grimm in the facility even if it meant burning the place. Claret and Navy agreed. Ormolu and Chrysoprase didn't. But I had the gun.

‘I led them back to the warehouse to fetch some gas,' said Violet in a heavy voice, like a confession. ‘I turned toward the vehicles. The light of the arctic sun ricocheted off the glass of the snow sweeper. I felt feverish. The next thing I remember is courtesy of Mordecai Cinnabar.

‘I was in hospital, back in Atlas. I felt nauseous, hollow. A civil servant visited me to tell me I burnt the Corbin station down. I confirmed that this had been my intention. I was made to repeat this story and incriminate myself. Due to my memory loss and confusion, I was determined to have lost my mind in the process of undertaking my mission and took the fall for the whole disaster.

‘Obviously I didn't know what the hell had happened to me. At first I was pretty mad, wanted some vengeance, but someone from AMI swung by to pre-empt me and throw me cash. He told me Mordecai Cinnabar was responsible for my memory loss and I realised I was dealing with powers beyond my reach. Cinnabar has a lot of proxies and you leave when they turn up. I was instructed to leave and keep quiet. I left. But the ones behind this are Mordecai Cinnabar and his organisation. I'm sure of it.

‘As for Corbin,' Violet concluded. ‘I'm sure as hell that place is still active, but my memory—well, I'm sure you understand. I don't know what's going on there now. Possibly they returned to the Grimm hybridisation project.’

‘After ten years?’

Violet raised his hands. ‘Ironwood couldn't protect me, but he cracked down on science and research. Research Ethics Committee had the run of things for a long time. I've contacted Ironwood a few times to check up on it all. He knows I'm not responsible, obviously. Last I heard Corbin Station was completely sealed off. They kept up maintenance on the place. I think there was enough interest and curiosity in the project. It was an ambitious idea. But that was three years ago. Everything waxes and wanes. And the Grimm have been substantially less aggressive since Salem was defeated. The council's view may have changed.’

‘Ironwood wouldn't stand for it,’ said Qrow. ‘Despite his faults, he'd never accept Grimm hybrids in the Atlas military.’

‘No, but he's not the only powerbroker in Atlas.’ Violet gave a throaty, somewhat violent cough and his hair shook about like a little shrub. ‘I don't know how AMI or Mordecai Cinnabar play into this, but if you're going to start sniffing into Atlas military secrets, you should know what he'll do to you.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Ruby. ‘Believe me, I know. But how the heck do you know about Weiss? No one's supposed to know. Weiss fell out with us. That was the story.’

Violet closed his eyes and shuddered dramatically. ‘When I try to remember,' he said, ‘I come over like this. Shaking, paranoid, a nameless emptiness inside. I saw her press conference with Jacques Schnee, the vacant look in her eyes. Something missing in there. And what else would explain her actions? She used to be so defiant. Cinnabar leaves his traces.’

Qrow spoke up abruptly. ‘Whoa, hold up,’ he said, ‘you're seriously telling me Mordecai Cinnabar is the reason Weiss is…’

‘I'm sorry.’ Ruby turned to Qrow, her shoulders slumping gloomily. ‘I thought I'd sound crazy with it all over the news. You were at Signal and I was in Vale. I guess I didn't want to talk about it either. What that guy can do isn't like anything I've ever felt.’

Qrow's eyes flashed in anger. ‘That bastard got you too?’

‘N-no,’ Ruby stammered. ‘Only a little. Not badly. Not like Weiss.’

‘It's like something went wrong inside of you, isn't it?’ said Violet. ‘A tongue of death laps at your hand, and your hand necrotises in a moment, turning black and withered.’

‘Something like that.’ Ruby crossed her arms.

‘So that's what…’ Qrow scratched his beard. ‘Umbral,’ he said. ‘He took Weiss in Umbral.’

‘You got it,’ said Ruby. ‘Umbral.’


	2. Left a shell

Umbral was Mantle’s second city, once. A smoky, working-class town in the lowlands north of the former capital, the rise of Atlas and the decline of pre-Dust heavy industry in the Atlesian economy hit it as hard there as it did anywhere. Today, it was a ruined and empty tribute to former glories, eaten up inside but outwardly still projecting the might of obsolete machines by its huge smokestacks, its sprawling estates of soot-scarred brick houses, and the dominant length of Buddenbrooks Boulevard stretching through the centre of the city to terminate at Offa’s Pillar, an obelisk from whose summit emerged a hand grasping a hammer.

Those days of power were over. Factories sighed behind corrugated iron fences. The shiftless depleted population were composed of the sorts unlucky to be passed over for military service. Work was scarce and Grimm attacks were common. The managed decline of Umbral went from a public wellspring of tragedy to a political football to an irreverent joke; and all the while, the city depopulated, the iron rusted and the Grimm gathered to feast on the misery of the townsfolk.

As appalling as the ruination was, Atlas never forgot her pride and generally refused outside help. Therefore, when a special mission arose requesting the particular skills of Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee and Jaune Arc in the city of Umbral, it was a surprise. Although the trio were not usually in a position to collaborate, the request came at just the moment when they were appropriately disposed to do so.

Ruby had been a senior Huntress at Beacon since the end of Salem’s War; Jaune joined her there six months before the Umbral job came in. On the other hand, Weiss had been at home in Atlas only two months prior, and returned to Vale to escape a scandalous lawsuit initiated by her father.

In Weiss’ curt description, it was all a terrible mess. The source of the dispute was the destiny of the Schnee estate. After the heroic actions of team RWBY during the war, the well-to-do in Atlas turned against Jacques Schnee for his disinheritance of Weiss and his years-long refusal to talk with his daughter. Surely the debt owed to Weiss by Remnant exceeded any claim by her _nouveau-riche_ industrialist father, who merely married into an old and respected bloodline and shored up its fortunes with cutthroat business tactics. Weiss, meanwhile, was a shining princess of virtue: heroic, tolerant and suffering for her sins with extraordinary humility. Quite arbitrarily, by a process of social exclusion, Jacques found himself bullied into relinquishing the right to determine the fate of his estate. The SDC’s labour practices, which had been tolerated for decades despite their infamy in the other kingdoms, became fair game to the media and consequently the Atlesian judicial bureaucracy. Hearing and investigations rushed in as contracts dried up; mention of the SDC’s abuses became a watchword among the upper classes and certainly the up-and-comers looking to signal their social proof. The treatment of the Faunus collier families working in the Dust mines was suddenly a cause of great importance.

With his fortunes in freefall, Jacques relented. He made a brief public statement promising to improve his company’s reputation, agreed that Weiss would inherit the SDC, and vanished from the public eye for six months to brood on the unhappy outcome with his son. Then the pair brought the suit against Weiss on the premise that she and her proxies had coerced him.

Naturally, the long and costly business was thoroughly well-documented in the papers. The journalists screamed alarm at Jacques’ impertinence, opined on the merits of Weiss’ heroism, and gawked guiltily at the handsome young Whitley, who had inherited his father’s rangy body and his mother’s fine features. There were questionings, conferences, investigations. To what extent was Weiss complicit in the bullying of her father? Was there a conspiracy among the old money of Atlas to punish the ambitious Jacques? How many pro-Jacques articles were published relative to pro-Weiss articles, and in which newspapers: the broadsheets or tabloids?

Weiss left. She could always find Huntress work waiting for her abroad; Beacon was happy to bring her on. Working with Ruby again satisfied her. To Klein she delegated the tasks of managing the ongoing litigation. The honest work of cleaning up Grimm around Vale was a relief after the petty melodrama of Atlesian decadents.

As for Jaune, he was the only one among the old teams RWBY and JNPR still attached to the academy system besides Ruby; since the war, Vale and Mistral had worked, somewhat controversially, to integrate Huntsmen more fully beneath their administrative authority. Others, like Yang, stayed the traditional course of keeping unaffiliated, though such Huntsmen were increasingly perceived as vigilantes. In any case, she was always on the road, flipping between jobs noble and unsavoury. Blake had quit the work: as the only daughter of the Chieftain of Menagerie, she had responsibilities at home that she couldn’t ignore (at least, that was what Yang had said six months ago when they fell out again). Meanwhile, the married Ren and Nora had settled into domesticity, taking the less hazardous route of teaching at a small Huntsman school for the under-17s in a suburb of Vale as they prepared for their first child.

But Jaune was still fighting Grimm. He had come into his own as a leader and strategist during Salem’s War, and was sought after in advisory or supervisory capacities by academies on all three continents. He had no illusions about his limited combat abilities, but his smarts and powerful Semblance made him a keystone in any group of Huntsmen.

And more often than not, he’d be working with Ruby. For a year and a half following the war, Jaune had been in Mistral, helping to oversee the Just Society reforms that uprooted the powerfully embedded criminal networks which had collaborated with Salem during the war, and reduced Grimm populations to manageable numbers. The place having been civilised well enough, Jaune returned to Beacon, relieving an isolated Ruby of her lonely work. Familiarity and friendship eased the burden of the endless fight, and their competence in the field together improved already stellar reputations; high-paying clients sometimes requested the pair specifically. They played a leading role in Vale’s eastward expansion: the popularly dubbed Reconquest that integrated Mountain Glenn back into territory of the Kingdom.

After a couple of years working alone, or with colleagues rather than comrades, it was a golden time for Ruby. She was fighting Grimm alongside a dear friend, her best friend, maybe. It was like old times—without the terrible pressure of Salem closing in. Every time they shared the adrenaline of victory, laughed and shared old stories during victuals—every time she caught his ocean blue eyes storming like she had ever since the Fall of Beacon, and he made that awkward smile to reassure her—the radiations of warmth and solicitude in her breast were uncomplicated and satisfying. She was content with the rare joy of true companionship. Weiss’ arrival complicated things, but also allowed her to imagine herself maturely releasing Jaune from her claustrophobic presence.

The reality was somewhat different; but like most autobiographies, the narrative Ruby chose to believe was one that protected her. Regardless, they were successful as Huntsmen.

But while fame brought work and coin to the wartime heroes, the state of Atlas and its many proxies and agencies were generally unmoved. The hermit kingdom of Remnant preferred to rely on its own strictly supervised Huntsmen; so the specific call for Ruby, Jaune and Weiss to perform a tough job in the remote town of Umbral was unprecedented.

At least for two of the party it was not unwelcome: Ruby and Jaune were always up for an adventure. The ambivalent Weiss would have to be the deciding vote.

She shrugged. ‘Umbral isn’t my side of Atlas. It’s a little like Mantle but—more so. The Schnees are creatures of the capital. I suppose we could take an airship, in and out quickly. I can deal with that. What could my father do, even if he knew I was there?’

The mission was not complicated, but it necessitated a specialised skill in the form of Ruby’s Silver Eyes. A large and very nasty Grimm commonly called the Sloth had taken up residence in the former Periwinkle Machine Tools LTD building, a giant dilapidated factory in the western post-industrial sprawl of Umbral called the Shields District.  At the command of Atlas Academy, Ruby, Jaune and Weiss took a small aircraft and discreetly landed in a former corporate airfield now under control of the Atlas government.

The city was ugly and cold, but the job started smoothly. Ruby, Jaune and Weiss slipped into labyrinthine streets littered with broken glass, cigarette boxes and rusty machine parts. The roads were black and the ancient smell of fuel and rubber radiated vaguely through the enclosed space between buildings. They passed through an industrial park and a dirty residential estate centred on a sparse plot of park containing some greyish grass and a terrified clutch of smog-choked spruces. A few pensioners twitched their grimy curtains to peer at the newcomers.

The Sloth, like the Apathy, effected psychological phenomena upon its victims. Whereas the Apathy directly drained the target’s will to live until he lay down and died, the Sloth, a larger and more fearsome beast that didn’t need to rely on mind games, produced a general sense of distraction and pleasure. Victims wouldn’t die of their own accord, but the effect kept them in comfortable stasis long enough for it to make its kill. It had grown fat and powerful luring aimless innocents in from around the Shields District.

Ruby’s Silver Eyes were naturally the central plank of the strategy and the reason for the specificity of the request. There’d be no victory without disrupting the oppressive power of the Sloth. The Grimm itself, a large bearlike monster with a shark-toothed grin and two foot claws, was resilient but slow. As they neared Periwinkle, an imposing and isolated building behind black iron gates, Weiss prepared a summoned Nevermore at Jaune’s behest.

All of them felt the urge to stop and rest as they got closer. Ruby caught herself diverting from mission talk to chatter aimlessly about tinkering with Crescent Rose. Weiss pulled out a thermos and Jaune had to talk her out of a coffee break. Ruby moved to tease them when a deep, shuddering groan from Periwinkle set their teeth on edge and reminded them of duty. Steeling themselves, they entered the factory.

The Sloth was enormous yet somehow invisible; the building was so spacious and crowded with equipment that it could effectively conceal itself. Slouching and encased in fat, bags drooping beneath its eyes, the eight foot beast stalked slowly between rows of assembly lines, growling soporifically. Happily, summoned spirits were not affected by the Sloth’s powers; Weiss brought out her Nevermore, which flew into the vast upper decks of the factory to locate the Grimm.

As soon as the Nevermore dived, Ruby and Jaune weaved through the ruined and discarded motors and machine parts, fighting the pulses of lassitude threatening to overwhelm them.

They found the Sloth with its claws in the Nevermore’s belly, its other hand holding the birdlike apparition by the neck. As they turn the corner to face it, a hot wave of pleasure swept through them, carrying the scent of honey and a heady ecstasy that electrified their nerves. Jaune dropped Crocea Mors, smiling giddily. The Sloth heard the sword strike the concrete and let out an anticipatory rasp, the sound harsh and inhuman like metal clatter. Still the Nevermore struggled in its arms, disintegrating slowly; but before the Grimm could finish the job and address its new opponents, Ruby clenched her fists and unleashed her Silver Eyes.

The power of the flash wasn’t enough to kill the Sloth outright, but immediately the effects of its sinister power were undone, and it was frozen for a few tense seconds as Jaune and Ruby recovered their senses. Jaune took up his sword and used his Semblance to revitalise the dying Nevermore while Ruby dashed forward, Crescent Rose primed to taste the flesh of the monster.

It took some hacking to finish it off, and Jaune ultimately landed the killing blow, driving his blade through its cracked mask as its shriek sent nauseous quivers down Ruby’s spine. Job done. Ruby fist-bumped Jaune as the Sloth disintegrated.

Then the summoned Nevermore, lying on its side, squawked and disappeared entirely. The victorious pair looked at one another.

‘Weiss!’ cried Jaune.

They ran back to Weiss’ position to find her in a combat stance, facing off not against Grimm but three men with guns. Their dress and appearance were indistinct: close-cropped hair, grey suits and dark glasses.

‘Weiss,’ Jaune called out. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I don’t know,’ Weiss replied. ‘These guys showed up out of nowhere and tried to drag me off.’

Ruby saw it coming before the other, and called out Jaune’s name, gesturing upwards as the figure jumped from the walkway above. Jaune leapt forward, pushing Weiss out of the way of her would-be kidnapper, who made an elegant crouched landing before rolling out of the way of Crescent Rose as it descended. His moves were graceful, yet he was dressed shabbily, inconspicuously, in an ill-fitting coat the colour of coal, his faded regimental tie slightly askew. He was masked, gloved, and his hair and eyes were obscured by a hat and dark, circular glasses.

‘Who are you?’ barked Jaune.

‘We’re here to collect you, Ms. Schnee,’ said the stranger. His voice was papery, anonymous.

Weiss started in recognition. ‘You’re Cinnabar, aren’t you?’ The stranger nodded. ‘This was all a setup!’ she cried. ‘The Sloth, everything! Gods, I’m so stupid!’

‘Who?’ Ruby glanced warily at the masked man as his lackeys shuffled about behind him.

‘He’s AMI, Ruby,’ Weiss explained. ‘Mordecai Cinnabar. Intelligence officer. Ex-Huntsman. Atlas’ top fixer. He can—’

Cinnabar raised his hand and a ferocious light flared up in Ruby’s head, blinding her, robbing her of thought, her body turning to air. When she regained her senses, she felt as though she had died and been reborn—reborn wrong, with an eldritch sign engraved on her heart, a deep and precious part of her touched and despoiled—and there was Weiss on the floor and Cinnabar was striding towards her supine figure, his hand still outstretched.

‘Weiss!’ Ruby launched forward, her Semblance kicking in instinctually as the thin blade of light slid out from Cinnabar’s palm, faster, faster, faster faster faster, each cruel increment of the light’s movement towards Weiss’s forehead visible as she pressed forth as though to break apart the air, the air that weighed her down and held her back, cracking and sizzling with the impossible force that she exerted upon it—and as she realised that she was too slow, that she would only receive the full force of Cinnabar’s terrifying power if she continued, she felt weight seize her shoulders and she was suddenly rolling on the concrete, held in the arms of Jaune, whom at that moment she hated deeply.

‘Weiss!’ she repeated hoarsely, struggling. ‘What are you doing? Let me go!’ She looked up and her fury was blunted by Jaune’s tears.

The process finished, Cinnabar raised his hands and exhaled slowly. ‘Take her. She’ll be out for an hour or so after that job.’ Two of the AMI men moved to pick up the unconscious Weiss while the other remained by Cinnabar’s side.

‘What did you do?’ Ruby screamed. ‘What was that?’ She felt weak and deflated, and flashes of heat and light still resounded in her cavernous mind.

Cinnabar regarded her impassively. ‘I removed you from her life.’

Jaune released Ruby and she charged forward again, this time feeling Jaune’s Semblance embrace her Aura. Spirit and vitality surged through her breast, the sad savour of roses bubbling up on her tongue; she felt her limits shatter, her rage and power surging without hindrance by its ordinary constraints; time became as air to her, her body loosed from all terrestrial mooring, her blood aching, crying, burning to see this creep torn to chunks; and she cried a note of war as Crescent Rose dropped in judgement.

Dropped upon, and sliced viciously through, the body of the AMI agent at Cinnabar’s side. He had moved with remarkable speed to defend his boss.

‘A waste of a good man,’ said Cinnabar, looking down at the body, which had been cut cleanly through the torso, blood and intestines sliding out onto the concrete. ‘But I suppose that is their job.’ He snapped his fingers, and Ruby cried out as the light seared into her again.

‘Your final warning,’ he said. ‘Still, I credit you with surprising me just now.’ Ruby moaned in response, scraping her palms on the rough floor, somehow unable to find purchase, her fingers horribly unfeeling. ‘I had a decent notion of your rate of acceleration and top speed from recordings made by Atlas military drones during the war. You exceeded those expectations. I’d be quite dead if it weren’t for my man here. Jaune Arc,’ he said, raising his head to look with evident curiosity at the young man kneeling behind Ruby. ‘Is this your work? The power to enhance Aura, is it not? I never saw it myself until this moment. Most impressive.’

‘Give her back,’ murmured Ruby.

‘She’d look askance at you if your words reached her, I’m afraid,’ Cinnabar said matter-of-factly. ‘Well, you’ll understand. Quite an extraordinary operation, but it’s really not personal. Don’t tell anyone about our meeting, if you please.’ He turned, and Ruby, struggling to form thoughts, stared blankly at his scuffed brown brogues as they shuffled away.

Minutes passed. The hollow feeling wouldn’t leave. The same words repeated like a ritual chant in her head: they were gone, they took Weiss. She crawled over to Jaune, who was on his hands and knees, and shook his shoulder.

‘Hi,’ he said. He moved to sitting position, slowly, and stared at his hands. ‘I feel…’

‘I know.’ There were tears on her cheeks that she couldn’t feel. She wrapped her arms around Jaune’s torso, holding him fast as if to anchor herself. ‘What’s the matter with me?’ she whispered. ‘What was that horrible light?’

Jaune grunted and activated his Semblance. Relief and comfort rushed in to fill the void left by Cinnabar; Ruby gasped and squeezed her eyes shut as the waves of heat reverberated through her. She felt the blood pound in her arteries, the numbness in her extremities fading. She was real again, her emotions lucid, her body tired and alive, like a child come home.

‘It’s working,’ she said. ‘Don’t stop.’

When Ruby’s senses had recovered enough to feel the sting of her raw, cried-out eyes, Jaune rose to his feet; Ruby found herself rising also as she realised his arms were around her waist, supporting her. She pressed her toes into the floor warily, ensuring her balance, and let her head fall onto Jaune’s chest. Her temple thudded against his armour.

‘What do we do?’ she asked.

‘Regroup,’ muttered Jaune. ‘Figure what just happened.’

‘That Cinnabar,’ she said. ‘He did something sick to Weiss.’

‘Yeah.’

‘That Semblance of his felt like it was stealing something out of me.’ Ruby looked up tearfully. ‘I think he made her forget about me.’

‘That’s crazy. You’ve been through so much together,’ Jaune said. ‘We all have. Weiss can’t have forgotten about you. She just can’t.’

But she had. The flight home took the best part of three days thanks to a storm over the Atlas seas, and Ruby and Jaune spent much of it in silence, reading or messing with their scrolls to distract themselves in the three bedroom cabin. No sooner had they touched down in Vale than Yang came running anxiously to greet them on the airfield.

She’d come to Beacon as soon as she heard the news, she said. Weiss had given a press conference, she said. She was acquiescing to her father.

They pulled up the video on Ruby’s scroll. There she was, the portrait of innocence with her hair down, glowing in a white dress. Weiss recited the cruel words in an absent tone.

‘I was manipulated and abused by the academy system,’ she said. ‘I was made to think my responsibilities were to these foreign Huntsmen rather than my own family. The council of Beacon, including the late Ozpin, vigorously encouraged me to isolate myself from my father. Ruby Rose may be a hero to Remnant, but she was more active than anyone in drawing me away from my real duties as a Schnee. Ruby Rose is the…Ruby Rose is my—’ Her lips moved soundlessly, and her hands shook. Jacques Schnee stepped forward to jostle her shoulder. ‘My father has suffered greatly because of these people,’ she said, her expression unreadable. ‘I’m only grateful it’s not too late to repair the damage. As per my father’s wishes, I’ll be…’

Ruby’s heart dropped. Yang was saying something about what a damned snake she turned out to be, but all Ruby could focus on were the glazed eyes of Weiss Schnee, searching vaguely for something that was no longer there.

* * *

Pouring herself a glass of mixed berry juice, Ruby told Qrow the full Umbral story in her hotel room before they left Haven for the Corbin Station. He was troubled, but not surprised.

‘Mordecai Cinnabar’s known as a grey eminence in Atlas,’ said Qrow. ‘One of the oddest Huntsman in his day. Brilliant mind, top of his school in Atlas at least where academics were concerned. Semblance wasn’t much use in combat with Grimm, but it terrified just about everyone who came into contact with it. Records were wiped after he joined AMI, but Ozpin knew about him. Fought in the war. Lot of quiet notoriety among my generation.’

‘So what is it exactly? Memory manipulation?’

Qrow shook his head and took a draught from his flask. ‘The forgetting is an effect of it. Think of it this way. You said Jaune’s Semblance helped you recover from Cinnabar’s, and his enhances the Aura of those around him, right? It means you heal faster and your Semblance gets stronger, but fundamentally what it does is put you in deeper touch with who you are. How does it feel when he uses it on you?’

Ruby thought for a few moments. ‘It feels comfortable. Comfortable, and liberating. Powerful. It feels like I’m valuable, like I could do anything. A master of the world.’

Qrow continued: ‘Your Aura is a projection of your soul. An instrumentalisation of it, as they used to say back in the academy. Cinnabar’s Semblance—well, it does the opposite of Jaune’s. How did that feel?’

‘Like I didn’t matter to anyone or anything. Empty, worthless. Ashamed. Almost like I didn’t exist, or didn’t deserve to. Jaune feels like a hug from someone you trust. Cinnabar feels like an unwanted guest running his fingers over you.’

‘The effects can be cumulative,’ Qrow said. ‘Personally speaking, I mean. Jaune’s Semblance, it builds you up. But Cinnabar—well, he’s literally soul-crushing. He learnt how to control his powers to steal parts of a person. He can’t create new memories. He can only subtract, only erase. Never create. But when he does subtract, it takes more than the memories. It leaves a gap in your soul. Enough of that and it might just destroy someone entirely.’ Qrow chucked. ‘And I say my Semblance ruins lives.’

‘So Weiss…’

‘Cinnabar stole some of the most precious parts of her.’ Qrow clicked his tongue. ‘Ripped out chunks and left a shell. Even with time, she might never know who she really is again.’ Ruby silently absorbed the information, so Qrow spoke again. ‘And the reason Jaune left Beacon—’

‘My fault. I blamed him for saving me when I tried block Cinnabar. Stupid Ruby.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘You and him were the only two left I could rely on,’ said Ruby. ‘Yang’ll come if I call, but she’s always on the move and you know how it is between us. But with Jaune it wasn’t the same after Weiss. I pushed him until he was gone.’

‘Did you want him gone?’ Qrow asked leadingly.

‘No.’ Ruby sighed. ‘I just wanted to stop feeling bad. I might’ve saved Weiss, and he saved me instead. It wasn’t really his fault, but it’s my job to do the right thing, even if that means—’

‘You can’t say it’s wrong for someone to care about you.’

‘Can’t I?’

Qrow threw up his hands. ‘Jaune’s in trouble and you’re going to save him.’

‘It’s what I do.’

‘I dunno, kid,’ said Qrow. ‘I always thought that boy just up and abandoned you. Feels like history is repeating itself with you and Summer sometimes.’

‘My mom was a great Huntress,’ said Ruby defensively. ‘She believed in doing the right thing no matter what. Didn’t you tell me those with silver eyes were born warriors?’

‘She was a born warrior. She also died.’

‘A great Huntress, Qrow,’ Ruby repeated.

‘And you know what? You’re an even greater one,’ replied Qrow. ‘Countless people owe you their lives countless times over. I know you, kid, and trust me, I get it. Take a look at my life. And believe it from someone who walked that road: it’s no picnic. Not when you’re fifty.’

‘Why don’t you take your own advice, then?’

Qrow tsked. ‘I was lucky enough to have something else fall into my hands, and that meant just about as much to me. I don’t want to check out before I see it through.’

‘That’s—’ Ruby’s tone became tender as she realised what he meant. ‘Okay. But what’s the point? I wanted to protect people. I always believed there were things more important than just—normal things. Not so eloquent, but you know me.’

‘You’re the point, Ruby.’ Qrow leaned back. ‘My sister’s a basket case, but she has one thing right. You’ve got a right to claim your existence. Don’t martyr yourself.’

Averting her eyes, Ruby changed the subject. ‘I was wondering just now: if Jaune used his Semblance on Weiss, would her memories come back?’

Qrow shrugged. ‘I’m no metaphysician. I’d say it’s worth a shot, if you can get to her. Problem is she’s been convinced you’re a snake who divided her family.’

‘Never stopped me before.’ Ruby downed her juice as Qrow’s lips spread in a wry, close-lipped smile. ‘But we gotta get Jaune back first,’ she said. ‘Haven’s contracted a fisherman name of Ulrich Blau to take us to Corbin. You ready?’

‘As I ever was, kid.’


	3. Nameless frontier

Claret laughed again. Ormolu smiled breezily and drew his hands together as he looked up at Ruby.

‘I can think of a few people,’ he said, ‘who would like to kill Mordecai Cinnabar. That they haven’t isn’t for want of trying.’

‘Dolores, sweetheart,’ drawled Claret. ‘Aren’t you well-acquainted with Mordecai? I’ve met the man, but I can’t say much about him.’

‘I do know him,’ said Chrysoprase shortly. ‘I’ve no inclination to disclose anything to this foreign Huntress, though.’

‘What’s his link to this place?’ asked Ruby

‘AMI favoured us with their patronage,’ said Claret.

‘You’re on their dime?’ Qrow asked.

Ormolu flashed his teeth cheekily. ‘Something like that.’

‘Uh-huh,’ said Ruby. ‘So what interest does Atlas intelligence have in a lil’ research station miles from civilisation?’

‘A good question, though one I’m sure you don’t expect us to actually answer’ said Claret. ‘What’s your best guess?’

‘That Atlas is concerned about Mistral’s chip on its shoulder,’ said Ruby. ‘A strong Mistral with a tech advantage on them is just about the only thing that scares Atlas right now. I can imagine the logic behind creating friendly or at least usable Grimm combatants. They could execute operations in the kingdom without being suspected as agents of Atlas. Spreading fear, paranoia, distrust. It’d be easy.’

‘Cynical, cynical, cynical,’ trilled Claret, cackling.

‘I’m not cynical,’ said Ruby. ‘Wish I could be, sometimes.’

‘No, you’re not,’ said Ormolu suddenly. ‘Your problem is that you’re always trying to save people, aren’t you?’

Ruby’s cheek twitched but she otherwise checked her reaction. ‘Have you been reading up on me?’

‘Only insofar as I've observed your public personality.’

‘Care to share your thoughts?’

Ormolu’s insouciant smile was unnerving, too boyish on his face. ‘If you insist. I think you’re a talented young woman who’s spent her life asking the wrong questions. But at least you ask the questions at all.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I’ll let you think on that one,’ replied Ormolu. ‘In the meantime: Pelles? Show these visitors to their friend.’

Pelles waved his bucket of fish at Ormolu. ‘And dinner?’

‘Can wait. Please deposit those in the kitchen on the way down.’

‘Nearly nightfall and you have me playing tour guide instead of prepping food.’ Pelles tutted and turned around, hobbling down the hall. ‘Well, Huntress?’ he beckoned Ruby with a stiff wave.

Before following the old man, Ruby stared at Ormolu for a few moments. ‘Mordecai Cinnabar stole my best friends from me,’ she said. ‘You think on that one, doc.’

Ormolu smiled drily. ‘Ms. Rose, I should warn you that Mordecai Cinnabar has friends as least as powerful as any of his enemies. He’s run up quite the list of favours. On the other hand, perhaps he’s met his match this time. Just let’s remember quid pro quo, eh?’

‘So there _is_ a price you’d take for information?’

‘It’s not outside the realm of the possible.’

‘Then consider negotiations open,’ said Ruby. ‘Let’s make sure Jaune’s alright first. Uncle Qrow.’ She turned and strode out of the room, flicking her cape behind her. Qrow smirked and followed, waving vaguely at Ormolu.

They walked in silence. Pelles took them back downstairs, shuffling like a wind-up doll. He slipped into the kitchen for a few moments to drop off his bucket, then led them round to a metal door at the back of the facility.

‘Below we keep the Grimm,’ said Pelles. ‘This is a military facility so we have some holding cells for prisoners as well. Not like we get to use ‘em much, though. Two wings to the basement. Rightward’s where your friend is. Leftward are the nasties.’ He opened the door and Ruby looked at him expectantly.

‘What?’ he said. ‘Let’s make a move.’

‘You first, bud,’ said Qrow.

‘Suspicious pair you are,’ grumbled Pelles. ‘Very well. Follow along.’

The stairs were well-lit compared to the hallway; it was clinically bright, the grubby metal steps nosed with PVC. At the bottom there was an antechamber containing two large steel doors, facing each other, with large circular handles in their centres.

‘The Grimm are in there,’ said Pelles, pointing left. ‘I’m sure Vere would give you a show if you asked, exhibitionist that he is. You ever wanted to see Grimm in captivity? Interesting opportunity.’

Not waiting for a reply, Pelles pulled out a heavy ring of keys and inputted a numerical code into a console by the right-hand door. The door clicked, and Pelles stuck a silver key into the console. It clicked again. Finally Pelles turned the handle on the door with both hands and it swung open.

Two rows composing three cells each were before them; they were fitted with metal doors and thick perspex screens. Pelles led them to the third cell on the left.

And suddenly, he was there. Ruby put her palm to the screen. ‘Jaune?’

Jaune was seated with his back to the corridor. His blonde hair was tamer, his features sharper and less boyish, his light armour somewhat tarnished. He turned at the voice, and his stoic appearance collapsed rather comically into shock. The sight of the ironic smile forming on Ruby’s lips only glazed his deep blue eyes with a more tearful sheen.

‘Ruby,’ he said, his voice muffled by the screen. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Heard you needed someone to get you out a sticky situation.’

‘Something like that,’ said Jaune. ‘But weren’t you still at Beacon?’

‘C’mon,’ replied Ruby, ‘do you really think I’d leave you here?’

‘No, I just didn’t think—’ Jaune shook his head, standing up. ‘Thanks, Ruby.’

Ruby’s smile lingered for a few moments of obvious relief. ‘How did you end up like this?’ she asked. ‘I heard you were scoping out the Grimm population.’

‘Yeah, Argus isn’t exactly a hotbed of negativity lately,’ said Jaune. ‘It’s been low around here for a while but they seemed to drop off the map entirely. Routine kind of job and I’ve been up the sea route without ever approaching Corbin. There’s nothing here. But this time my sensor picked up a focal point of Grimm interest in Corbin.’

‘And what happened?’

‘Kinda embarrassing. Someone whacked me on the beach and I was out like a light,’ said Jaune. ‘Next thing I know, I’m here. My guess would be Ormolu. His Semblance is pretty crazy and given the opportunity, well…’

Ruby explained that they’d been told about Ormolu and his Semblance.

‘Sounds plausible, right?’ Jaune shrugged. ‘Dunno why the top guy here would be out on the beach, though.’

‘Maybe they expected company,’ said Qrow. Ruby frowned, her eyes darting this way and that.

‘As you can see, your boyfriend is fine,’ said Pelles. ‘Now, if you please, I’ll be making dinner.’ He made to exit.

‘Not so fast,’ Ruby said before the old man could turn around. ‘Why is Jaune down here?’

‘I told you. He’s a trespasser,’ said Pelles dismissively.

‘So are we, and we’re not in a cell. Release him.’

Pelles turned. His expression was dark, the ironic dazzle of his eyes gone. His brows twitched with tension. ‘Haven’t you put it together yet?’

‘Just now, I have.’ Ruby’s voice was steady. ‘You didn’t take Jaune because he’s a trespasser. You want him for something.’

‘What?’ Jaune pressed his hand against the perspex. ‘Is this true?’

The old man only sniffed. ‘Maybe you should ask Dr. Ormolu. Or perhaps Jaune here can give you some information. Either way’—he glanced at the ceiling nervously—‘you should probably make yourselves comfortable. Or leave now.’

‘I could believe that there’s something more to this,’ said Jaune. ‘They’ve had me using my Semblance on Vere Claret a few times.’

‘The Faunus?’ asked Qrow.

‘Yeah.’ Jaune squinted in thought. ‘Ormolu says he has chronic back pain. He told me as long as I’m here, I should do some good. They also took a blood sample from me. All pretty suspicious, right? If they just wanted to see my Semblance for research purposes, they wouldn’t need the back pain story. Obviously it all adds up to something but I’m not so clear on what it is. Vere Claret would be a good place to start, though.’

‘You two should leave,’ said Pelles suddenly. ‘If you had any sense, you’d be out the door by now.’

‘Not without Jaune.’ Ruby drew Crescent Rose as she swivelled to face Pelles. ‘If it’s the same to you, I’d rather make a personal inspection of your facilities. Unlock the cell or I’ll put my scythe through it until I’ve broken in myself.’

Pelles sniffed at her audacity. ‘Well, now, this is certainly conduct unbecoming of a young lady,’ he said.

‘I’ll show you conduct unbecoming, wise guy.’ Crescent Rose unfolded into its full, gleaming scythe form. ‘Open the cell.’

Pelles was about to protest again, but Qrow interjected—‘Save it’—and the old man reluctantly returned to the cell door. With Ruby and Qrow’s eyes on him, he slowly inputted another code and inserted another key. The door clicked, and Jaune stepped out, looking gratefully at Ruby as Pelles grumbled.

‘You will have Dr. Ormolu to answer to,’ he said.

Qrow acknowledged Jaune with a nod and then winked ironically at Pelles.  ‘Just open up that zoo on the other side of the basement, would you?’

‘I want it on the record that I am acting under duress.’ Pelles scowled and shuffled away, waving for the others to follow as he returned to the hallway.

‘Hey,’ whispered Ruby to Qrow, ‘isn’t it strange that the cook’s been entrusted with the keys to a top secret area where Grimm experiments were conducted?’

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ said Qrow. ‘Cross that bridge when we come to it, I s’ppose.’ Smirking, he slouched off after Pelles.

Ruby looked up at Jaune reticently. ‘Jaune, I’m sorry we had to meet again like this and not, y’know…’ She gestured around as words failed her.

‘It’s alright. Good to see you.’ Jaune still looked surprised, as though he hadn’t quite adjusted to her presence.

‘You slowpokes gonna force me to open this door or what?’ said Pelles.

Jaune was about to follow after Ruby, but she stopped him. ‘Weapon?’

‘They’re keeping it upstairs.’

Ruby clicked her tongue. ‘Alright. Wait outside the door. We’ll have time to catch up.’

‘I’m not going—’

‘I’m not risking your life while you’re unarmed,’ said Ruby firmly. ‘My mission was to save you.’ The look she received from Jaune was as conflicted as her own.

Out in the hallway, Pelles unlocked the door to the western wing of the basement, trailed by Qrow and Ruby. ‘Welcome to the menagerie,’ he said.

The lights flickered on to illuminate a larger room lined with dark metal cells, sealed off and foreboding. Their doors were heavy and marked with metal sliders that covered viewing ports. At the far side of the room, Ruby could see an aquarium, and to its right, another door.

‘Cells are labelled,’ said Pelles. ‘Lot of these are empty now, but we kept a few important specimens. Little slots at the bottom of the doors there to tranquilise ‘em. Nuckelavee second to your left. A couple Apathy third on your right—don’t like getting too close to the cell, although I’m assured it’s safe. They were hard to grab as I understand it. The real prize is in that aquarium though. And the lab’s through the door at the back.’

Ruby pulled back the heavy slider and peered through the portal into the Nuckelavee’s cell. She didn’t know quite what to expect, but it was somehow worse than what she was prepared for. The Nuckelavee wasn’t active—quite the contrary. The devilish mask was perfectly still, gazing at its locked and sealed escape route, gazing at Ruby with empty predation in its eyes. She flinched, but didn’t turn away. It was eerie and unnatural to see the monstrous creature frozen, staring dully at the door, unmoving in its cloud of negative power. The horse-like lower body was equally motionless, its long, ghastly head lowered.

‘We call it hibernation, although it’s not exactly like animal hibernation,’ said Pelles, anticipating the question. ‘Grimm don’t need to eat—at least not like we do—so after a few days of confinement they seize up like this. There are a few exceptions, though.’

Ruby scoffed, sliding the port shut. ‘What’s in the aquarium?’

‘Come. I’ll show you. Unless you’re waiting for Ormolu to catch up with us.’

Pelles kept walking. Ruby shared a disquieted look with Qrow as they moved gingerly past the doors. The cells were uncannily silent yet in her Aura she felt the black emanations of their occupants. The lighted aquarium shimmered a surreal cyan against the grey and the faint whirr of live machines undergirded Ruby’s watchfulness.

‘Ever heard of a Selkie?’ Pelles said as they reached the aquarium and peered into the bubbly murk.

‘I guess,’ said Ruby. ‘Sea Grimm, right? Don’t know much else about them. Uncle Qrow?’

‘Sure,’ said Qrow. ‘They’re rare aquatic Grimm. Take human form to lure us in, habitat in the seas around here. Just simple facsimiles: they can’t emulate human thought or personality. You got one here?’

As if to answer the question, the aquarium’s prisoner emerged into view and both Ruby and Qrow took a step back. ‘Shit,’ he said. Ruby didn’t bother to check him on his language this time.

‘Yes,’ said Pelles. ‘We do.’

Before them was an apparently human child in the water: a little boy, his body contorting and writhing as he drowned. Fat bubbles escaped a mouth that was open and crying out muffled pleas, and his eyes were frantic, even accusatory. The sight alone aroused a twinge of anxiety and guilt in Ruby, even knowing it wasn’t genuine. Yet the creature’s emulation of a human clearly departed from the reality. After a few moments of observation, Ruby could see that its motions were rote and mechanistic, lacking the vitality and spontaneity of a genuine human life. The pleading eyes never wavered or changed, only rolled and stared with the same manic intensity. It was uncanny, something against nature: real enough to quicken Ruby’s pulse, false enough to raise her hackles and get her finger twitching.

‘One of the strangest, nastiest Grimm on Remnant,’ said Pelles. ‘Interesting little ability, isn’t it?’

Ruby looked away from the grotesque display. ‘Lots of words are springing to mind here. Interesting isn’t one of them. Uncle Qrow, let’s check out the lab.’

Qrow nodded his assent and they moved away from the Selkie. Pelles watched them with an unreadable expression.

‘Coming?’ asked Qrow.

‘I shouldn’t be here in the first place,’ said Pelles. ‘There are valuable Grimm cell cultures frozen in there. Whatever happens as a result of your snooping is your misfortune. If you want to peruse confidential military research, leave me out of it.’ Qrow flinched at the word ‘misfortune’ and Ruby shot him a reassuring glance.

‘Do what you want,’ she said.

They walked into the lab and flicked on the lights, squinting as the fluorescents dazzled their eyes. To the right was a rack of coats and goggles, as well as two hazmat suits, and a long steel workbench outfitted with a sink and shelves of cluttered equipment. On the other side of the room were a row of three computers and a huge black Titan-class Atlas microscope fitted into the wall, conspicuously sleek next to the mass market desktops. Beyond the steel and glass was another heavy door.

‘Place your bets where they might be keeping the cell cultures,’ said Qrow. He approached one of the computers as Ruby inspected the door. Tentatively, she placed one hand on the handle and tested the lock.

‘It’s open,’ she said.

Qrow acknowledged Ruby with a thumbs-up as he waited for the computer to respond. A password prompt flashed up and Qrow groaned.

‘Don’t suppose you’ve learned some master hacking skills since last time I saw you.’

Ruby chuckled. ‘Nope. Let’s check this out the old-fashioned way.’

‘That suits me fine.’

With no small amount of trepidation, Ruby pulled at the handle, whose hinges protested with a sound like a siren. Cool air crept over Ruby as the door swung open. Without crossing the threshold, she glanced inside.

A large metal freezer dominated the little anteroom. A bench about a yard or so from Ruby carried some petri dishes, but the room was otherwise bare besides a plastic stool. She squinted at the bench.

‘There’s a petri dish live with something,’ she said. ‘Looks kinda black. Gooey. I’m no biologist, but I’m going to assume Grimm.’

‘That’s enough to go on,’ said Qrow. ‘Plenty to ask Dr. Ormolu. Let’s keep our distance from any weird black goo, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

As Ruby turned back to the freezer, the black substance in the petri dish rippled. Tiny particles, sensing fear and discomfort, popped imperceptibly off the surface of the jelly and darted upwards through the air. Their bodies twitched and pulsed as they slithered between motes of dust.

Ruby closed the door.

‘Satisfied?’ asked Qrow.

‘Uh-huh. Let’s move. This place gives me the willies.’

They shut off the lights and left the lab. Pelles had remained at the aquarium, staring impassively at the Selkie. Its discomfiting contortions in human form continued.

‘What do they really look like?’ asked Ruby.

Pelles joined them as they walked back up the corridor. He didn’t look at Ruby as he answered. ‘Seals, I suppose, although a little slimmer than the genuine article. Larger jaws too, of course. The bone masks are flat, like a human face. Uncanny even for a Grimm.’

Jaune was fidgeting on the stairs outside, and he leapt to his feet when Ruby and Qrow appeared. Pelles locked the door behind them.

‘You’re okay?’ Jaune asked.

‘I’m okay,’ replied Ruby.

Jaune did smile, but it was inexpressive. ‘So what’s the story?’

‘Something funny in there for sure,’ said Qrow. ‘Got some questions for Ormolu. Surprised we weren’t ambushed by those jokers at some point.’

‘No one’s come down,’ said Jaune. ‘Feels as though I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.’

They ascended the stairs. The heating must’ve been higher up above because Ruby began to sweat in the ground floor hallway. She wiped her brow and glanced at Qrow, who appeared lost in thought, walking hunched over. They turned the corner and Ruby looked dizzily at her arm, which was swinging like someone had knocked it. She realised her hand had bumped into the corner and she hadn’t felt it. She drew to a halt, her head swaying.

‘Uncle Qrow?’ Her peeping voice sounded loud and sharp in the empty hall. She raised her hands and touched them together, fear jolting through her like a cavity opening in her chest. ‘I can’t feel my hands, Uncle Qrow,’ she whimpered.

‘Ruby?’ Qrow’s panicked eyes accelerated Ruby’s anxiety and she grabbed his sleeve to balance herself. ‘Ruby, what’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said ‘Pelles—’

Behind them, the old man sighed. ‘I told you not to go in there.’

‘The hell is this?’ It was Jaune’s voice. Ruby felt hands on her shoulders and she leaned back, gazing up as his anxious face entered her sight. ‘Ruby? Are you okay?’

‘What’s happening to me?’ she asked, but Jaune only shook his head frantically in confusion. ‘I feel like I’m gonna burn up,’ she murmured. ‘Can’t feel my hands or feet.’ She slumped back against Jaune.

‘Stay with me,’ said Jaune. ‘Just stay with me, Rubes.’

Qrow felt Ruby’s forehead. ‘She’s definitely overheated.’ He grimaced, patting her head protectively. Turning to Pelles, he growled, ‘You’re awful quiet over there.’

‘You’ll find out what it is soon enough,’ said Pelles. ‘Not much to be done, I’m afraid.’

‘No.’ Ruby’s voice sounded distant from her. She articulated a heavy tongue into slow words, trying to focus on Jaune’s frightened eyes and his hands grasping her shoulders. ‘I can’t go.’

Jaune spoke again, but Ruby’s senses were dull, her face hot and aching, and her mind swollen with red, pulpy thoughts of nonexistence. She said Jaune’s name, and Uncle Qrow’s, but she couldn’t tell if she was talking. Their faces crowded noisily towards her as they faded away.

* * *

The five years after Salem fell were kind to Vale. The post-war baby boom and the concurrent Reconquest of Mountain Glenn grew the city’s population into the hundreds of thousands for the first time in living memory, and under the stewardship of Ruby Rose, the nameless frontier beyond the valleys was the next target for expansion. Over the mountains were the wild fens of eastern Sanus, wetlands that hadn’t seen sustained human contact for generations. To feed the growing population, the land would be reclaimed for agriculture in the more stable silt soil area. Firstly, however, it would have to cleared of its perilous inhabitants.

The major Grimm of the fenlands were Lynxes. Smaller than Beowolves, but generally considered more dangerous than some larger Grimm, they were lithe and clever ambush predators that hid in the vegetation and shallow waters; their stealth and intelligence made them especially unpredictable, and as such they were an early priority for the base that Ruby established on Summer Hill, the overlooking hill that poked out of the the east limb of the mountains like a finger testing the marshy ground.

Of course, it wasn’t much of a base at first.

‘Ta-dah!’ Ruby drove the Valean flag into the soil and stood arms akimbo before the eastern horizon, gazing out at the wetlands. ‘I’m calling this hill Summer Hill.’

‘After your mom?’ Jaune was resting on soft grasses a few yards from Ruby. Fulfilling an idle proposal he’d made years ago, he’d grown out his hair into a short, high ponytail—or a warrior’s wolftail, as he preferred.

‘Yeah. Is that how you name things?’ Ruby shrugged. ‘I’ve never done it before.’

‘I’m sure it won’t be the only chance we get,’ said Jaune. ‘There’s a lot of land out there. I call dibs on the first town. How about Arcton?’

‘Lame.’

‘Arcville?’

‘Lamer.’

‘Arcwich? Arcley?’

Ruby dropped next to Jaune and elbowed him with a chuckle. ‘Pretty big-headed of you to name a place after yourself.’

‘It’s my family name!’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Ruby flopped back. ‘This is a good defensive spot. We’ll set up camp and a checkpoint so the other Huntsmen can find it, eat lunch, and then how’s about we keep on going? Take the fight to some Grimm.’

‘More fighting? After those mountain Ursas? I’m beat.’

‘That’s why we eat first, silly,’ said Ruby. ‘It’s only twelve o’clock, anyhow. There’s some silver birch woodland at the foot of the hill. Betcha we’ll need to clear that out before any Grimm in there sniff us out.’

‘Only twelve, huh?’ Jaune sighed, looking at the overcast sky. ‘Not bad time we’re making. We’ve got a lot done, huh?’

‘We got through the mountains in three quarters of the projected time but half as fast as I woulda liked,’ said Ruby.

Jaune frowned. ‘You thought we could make it in under two hours?’

‘Aim for the stars, Jaune!’ Ruby hopped up and opened the camping backpack. ‘Let’s get prepped.’

The checkpoint was a simple device that emitted a radio signal detectable by scrolls. Ruby inputted Summer Hill as the name of the checkpoint alongside their own names and ID numbers, and buried its metal roots in the ground next to the flagpole. It could also be used as an SOS device that would amplify the signal of their scrolls. Still, with the closest hunting party still tucked away in the mountains, the pair couldn’t rely on outside assistance.

After pitching tents and polishing off some corned beef rations, Jaune and Ruby started down the other side of the hill, whose grasses quickly gave way to the slim white trunks of the birches, their leaves browning in the chill of late October. Their close and crooked forms sheltered shrubs and sedges low to the ground, which badly hindered visibility; it was the ideal area for Lynxes.

‘Keep it cool, Rubes.’

‘Mmmhm.’

‘Remember the plan. Nice and slow.’

‘I _know_ , Jaune.’

‘I can see you twitching. If a Lynx thinks you’re nervous or you can outmanoeuvre it, it’s either going to avoid us or take extra special care to get you at your most vulnerable. These guys stalk prey for hours. They’ll know if you’re raring to go.’

Ruby huffed. ‘But I was built to rare.’

‘Just act natural, keep your finger on the trigger and I’ll cover you if they catch you off-guard.’

‘I’d like to see ‘em try.’ Ruby smiled back at Jaune. ‘But thanks.’

There was no clear path through the trees, so they wound through the narrow spaces haltingly, ducking to avoid branches. As they descended, the stony ground softened and the soil became yielding and gluey beneath their boots. The rains of autumn had taken their toll and moist leaf litter stuck to their soles.

They had walked about thirty minutes when Ruby made the hand signal at Jaune: ‘Grimm nearby,’ it said. Another: ‘Two o’clock.’ He glanced around carefully, keeping his head steady, palm resting on the hilt of Crocea Mors. Ruby had a better eye than him for fast or stealthy targets. They stood in a narrow, muddy clearing divided from another by a little copse of trees. Ruby, to her credit, looked nonchalant as she approached the impeding trees. She swung herself under and through the branches to stand partially obscured by the foliage, and casually flipped Crescent Rose up as she did so.

Almost as soon as the weapon was primed, a black shape tore out of the undergrowth to Ruby’s right with vicious speed and Ruby fired without missing a beat, knocking the Grimm back into the trees. Jaune drew his sword and shield just in time for another Lynx to pounce at him—he leapt backwards, and caught a glimpse of the creature in the moment before it carried its momentum through to another jump back into the vegetation. It was lean and sleek, more the size of a mountain lion than a wild cat, and its characteristic white facial mask was flat and smooth, with no ostentatious horns or markings.

Ruby had apparently noticed one of the Grimm moving again, since she turned 180 degrees and backed away from the copse, Crescent Rose extending into its polearm form with the tip pointed outwards—the Lynx pounced again, and this time she speared it successfully, its body disintegrating. Then she glanced back and grunted: she’d stepped back to brace against her left leg, and Jaune realised why the Grimm had chosen this location. Ruby’s leg was sunk calf deep in peat.

Before Ruby could pull free, another Lynx jumped. She batted it down and it sunk its teeth into her immobile calf. As Ruby cried out, Jaune realised what was going to happen and dove through the copse into a crouch on the other side, raising his shield as the third Lynx exploded out of the vegetation towards Ruby. It collided heavily with the metal as Jaune thrust forward into its momentum to hurl the Grimm back towards the trees dividing the clearing. No sooner had the Lynx’s back touched the birch than Crescent Rose lanced past him and nailed the creature to the tree, killing it.

‘Don’t usually hunt in groups, do they?’ Ruby said, grunting with pain as she pulled her leg out of the bog. ‘Must’ve caught on to—’ She gasped as the injured limb failed her and she fell forward.

‘Ruby!’ Jaune got to his feet, sheathing his weapon.

‘I’m ‘kay,’ Ruby mumbled into the leaves, and rolled onto her back.

Jaune examined the bite mark, which had torn clean through Ruby’s heavy boots. ‘Too deep to heal quickly without some help,’ he said. ‘Leaving it to Aura’d be a risk. I’ll get you somewhere drier to deal with this.’ He picked her up bridal-style, eliciting a yelp.

‘Hey, you don’t have to pick me up,’ Ruby muttered, reddening. ‘Don’t go out of your way. I’m probably heavy and I can just lean on you if I need it and what if more Lynxes come and—hey, don’t forget about my scythe!’

‘Hate to say it, Rubes, but you’re extremely overweight and my arms can’t take it,’ said Jaune sarcastically as he waited for Ruby to pull Crescent Rose from the tree. She giggled, then winced in pain. Jaune shifted so she was nested more comfortably, and she looked down awkwardly at the large hand cupping her arm as he moved her back to a grassier area.

‘You didn’t have to pick me up,’ Ruby said again, more quietly.

Jaune chuckled and laid Ruby down on a dry patch of ground to unfasten her boot. ‘Stop complaining.’

Ruby acknowledged him with a pained smile. Jaune pulled her boot off to reveal torn and bloodied tights. Two deep gashes marked where the Lynx’s incisors had ripped through flesh and muscle.

‘This’ll take five to ten minutes,’ Jaune said. ‘You comfy?’

‘Yeah.’ Ruby grunted in the back of her throat and reached out to squeeze Jaune’s fingers softly. ‘Thanks.’

‘Sure.’ Jaune inhaled slowly and activated his Semblance. Ruby closed her eyes and shivered as the warmth rushed through her. ‘Just remember to be careful. I might not always be around to do this.’

‘But you are now,’ Ruby said. ‘And you say that, but you kinda always have been around. Crazy to think about it now. Saved Remnant, back in time for tea. Hoped Yang might want to help carve out the frontier, but I guess not. I never thought it’d be just us left at Beacon. You were my first friend here.’

‘And you were mine.’

‘Sorry to get sentimental.’ Ruby giggled. ‘Your Semblance feels all bubbly.’

‘Qrow says it’s like a good dram of whisky.’

‘Uncle Qrow!’ Ruby tutted. ‘He’s such a drunk.’

‘I can kinda see it, though,’ said Jaune.

Gradually, Ruby’s wounds began to close up, though the bloodstains and tears on her tights remained. ‘Looks like I’m going clothes shopping,’ she said, wiggling her toes. ‘My favourite.’

Under the influence of Jaune’s Semblance, Ruby’s augmented Aura shone through her skin with an inviting lambency, like gentle lamplight. She found herself staring vaguely at Jaune’s hands and looked up at him with a clumsy grin. He returned it sheepishly, his eyes creasing. Ordinarily, she had just about enough self-awareness to keep her want of tact in check before it got her into trouble, but the cheerful energy tingling in her breast disinhibited her.

‘You’re big,’ she said happily. Then she blushed. ‘I mean, you have big hands.’

‘Maybe to you, short stuff.’

‘I’m not _that_ short. You are too big, anyways.’

‘You’re pretty short,’ Jaune repeated, flexing his hands and refocusing on his Semblance. ‘Not that it matters. I’m always amazed how strong you are for someone so small and dainty.’

Ruby’s laugh was nervous. ‘You think I’m small and dainty?’

‘N-no, not really,’ stuttered Jaune. ‘I mean, you are. Not that I’m calling you weak. You’re really strong is what I’m saying and I’m going to stop talking now.’ He stared fixedly at Ruby’s wounds as her teasing look bored into the side of his head.

‘You don’t have to stop,’ said Ruby glowingly. ‘I don’t mind. It’s nice.’

Jaune took a deep breath as the injuries finished healing, then reached out to lay a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. His touch was familiar and confident, yet typically reserved. ‘I think I know you pretty well.’

‘As well as anyone ever has.’

‘I get why you want to protect people,’ said Jaune. ‘Why you throw yourself into the fight even at risk of your life. I don’t want you to misunderstand me. I know how hard it is to turn away when your instincts tell you to fight.’

Ruby frowned. ‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I feel it too. That’s probably why I’m here and not someone else.’

‘Yeah.’ Ruby smiled weakly. ‘I guess that makes sense.’

‘But even so,’ said Jaune, dropping his gaze, ‘I don’t want you to end up hurt worse because of it.’

‘Way to ruin the mood.’ Ruby sighed. ‘You mean like my mom, right?’

‘Like Pyrrha.’ Jaune looked back at her, his expression warm yet somehow inscrutable. ‘I don’t want to feel that way ever again. I don’t want to expose myself to it.’

Ruby considered his words, looking down at her unshod foot as the warmth of Jaune’s Semblance faded gradually away. ‘Of course,’ she said at length. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I might not always be here,’ repeated Jaune, ‘but I’m here for now. There’s time to spare. Anyway, we’re sitting ducks out here. Let’s get a move on. We’ll want to hit more of those Lynxes before going back to camp.’

Ruby pulled her damaged boot back on and rose unsteadily, leaning on Jaune for support. Testing her leg, she gave him the thumbs up and he let her stand. With a thoughtful smile, he broke contact and headed back towards the clearing where they’d been attacked. Looking at Jaune’s back as he walked away, Ruby touched the spot on the back of her right hand where his fingers had been and wondered when everything had become so complicated.


	4. God's acrobat

Qrow’s fiftieth birthday came shortly after Ruby arrived back in Vale from the frontier. She took a couple days off to stay in Patch a long weekend over the thirteenth of November; Qrow, of course, had been born on a Friday. He was staying at Tai’s place for the celebration, his own small flat in Patch unfit for the occasion.

Each time Ruby returned to Patch the sense of foreboding increased. The unspoken estrangement began as the war ended and team RWBY split for good. Her work, her life in Vale became routine; family became distant. It was mostly the issue of Yang, whom Ruby had not seen for six months. Ruby was a private person with nearly anyone, but the door between her and Yang was disused and the rust heavier each time they reconnected. For several years their relationship had been like a diminishing waveform, each truce and resumption of closeness cresting lower than the last, each promise less convincing.

Dad was Dad. She loved him, and she knew she could rely on him in every way except where anything really personal was concerned. It wasn’t his fault. He had his limits; Ruby just hadn’t inherited them. Everyone had always said she was like her mother since she was too young to know what they meant, but more and more she understood that flicker of accusation in his eyes when he looked at her sometimes—the flicker that became a flame when its target was Qrow.

Qrow. Yes, she’d see Qrow as well; Ruby was relieved for his presence. He’d make it easier. He also wouldn’t have been spending a birthday at Dad’s house full stop if it weren’t for her.

The bullhead to Patch was regular. Qrow would meet her at the terminal before they took the rickety old train out to the countryside. Then it was a short trek, through the sighing yellows and shimmering reds of autumn, to Tai’s house in the woods. At the airport, her smile was authentic as she hurried towards the familiar hunched figure. It was the first time she’d seen him with the beard and she laughed as she accosted him with her typical enthusiasm.

‘Pretty handsome, huh?’ Qrow said. ‘A regular silver fox.’

‘You look like a hobo.’

‘Ah, a kid like you wouldn’t understand.’ Qrow lazily draped his arm around Ruby’s shoulder and jostled her affectionately. He’d cut down on drinking and his scent was cleaner, less acrid.

‘Good to see you too, Uncle Qrow.’

His presence eased Ruby’s anxiety, if only because she could tell by his sardonic commentary (‘Ready to get celebrating?’) that he shared her misgivings. It was the strangeness of family that struck Ruby immediately: here was the man for whom the whole party was organised, her uncle by happenstance rather than blood, and yet the ritual was as much for her sake. Her bond with Qrow was stronger than that he shared with his genetic niece. Without that bond, there’d be no reason for the pretence, and even given all that, neither of them much wanted to go.

She hadn’t seen her beloved uncle in too long—almost a year since she’d dropped by Patch over the winter holidays. He hadn’t been invited to Taiyang’s, but she’d made time to visit the city and together they’d walked the cobblestone streets of the old town that twisted and snapped in lazy, natural patterns around the traditional timber framed buildings, a far cry from the wide, sterile roads and transparent artifice of Mountain Glenn. Less than a year hence, so much had happened: the Reconquest complete, the frontier smashed open in an historic success, and Jaune. And Jaune.

Qrow listened with a dry, affectionate ear as the train rattled and hissed its way through the dales of the Patch countryside. The weather was fair and clear, and at their window Ruby hummed and twittered to watch the familiar forests and fields trundle by. She chirped at the abundant nature: the brusque movement of a rabbit rushing through bluebells, the magpies hopping in the shrubs. Even Qrow was infected with her energy when she bounced gently on the worn fabric of the seat and clapped her hands: she had seen the horses of Erewash Farm cantering around the oak tree in their enclosure, summoning memories of childhood visits to the nearby settlement a dozen miles from home.

‘Calm down,’ he chuckled. ‘It’s just home.’

‘Yeah!’ Ruby elbowed him. ‘It _is_ home.’

The ease of their bond brought both of them release. They relished the surprise of comfort: the astonishing reality that so little existed between them after so many years.

Off the train at the Fairworth Estate, the former manor of the Earl of Patch, long since converted into a local history museum. From there it was northwards, away from the old house and down the dirt path that led through the forests to Tai’s home; the route was reasonably safe, these days. As Ruby babbled about her various exploits, Qrow couldn’t help but notice the frequency of a certain name.

‘You’re still pretty close with him, huh?’

‘Jaune?’

‘Yeah,’ said Qrow. ‘Something I should know about?’

‘Oh, no. He’s my best friend.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do. I do say so.’

Qrow snickered. ‘Relax, kid. Teasing.’

The nip in the evening air was sharp and the trees were down to their last and darkest leaves, the yellow light passing through their diverse shapes and turning them all to fire. Presently they approached the grove in which the freestanding wooden house was nestled. A familiar face was there already.

‘Hey, Rubes. Uncle Qrow.’ Yang had bronzed since Ruby’s last conversation with her. Clad in simple brown cargo trousers and a synthetic orange winter jacket, she smiled as Ruby and Qrow crossed into the yard. Her features had grown hardened and polished since the war, giving her a statuesque appearance, and her mane of hair was textured with glossy sun-streaks.

‘Yang!’ Ruby ran to hug her as Qrow waved languidly. ‘How’re you?’

‘I’m pretty good, little sis,’ said Yang, slinging her good arm around Ruby. ‘You been keeping out of trouble?’

Ruby snorted. ‘Have you?’

‘Wouldn’t if you paid me.’ Yang patted Ruby’s head and beckoned to Qrow. ‘Come. Dad’s inside.’

Tai’s eyes lit up as they entered. ‘Ruby!’ He stood, lips splitting into a grin.

‘Hey, Dad!’

Like Qrow, Tai was beginning to grey; unlike him, his blonde hair was silvered rather than peppered. With a stockier body and a gentler face than his former teammate, and dressed in plain red flannel and jeans that contrasted with Qrow’s edgier grey-black attire, it was easy to imagine them as complements. It was, however, necessarily an act of imagination: the obvious warmth with which he hugged Ruby diminished to civility as he grasped Qrow’s hand.

‘Good to see you, Qrow.’

‘Likewise. Hope you aren’t too bored out here by yourself.’

‘I keep busy,’ said Tai. ‘Real work here and there, teaching most of the time.’

The house was same as always: spare, orderly and spacious. The wooden furniture was austere, unadorned, but their plainness was softened in Ruby’s memories. There was nothing rough or anonymous about the squared-off edges of the chairs, the nearly three decades worth of stains on the dining table (coffee? tea? whiskey? yes). The images of home passed through Ruby, and at first, they made her all warm and toasty. Then the melancholy came in like a breath of wind on the fire.

‘How’s the frontier stuff going?’ asked Tai. ‘I’ve been keeping up with all your achievements in the papers.’

‘It’s been great,’ said Ruby. ‘It feels like freedom out there. Nothing but the fight.’

‘Wish I could’ve sent you a birthday card, though.’

‘Aw, Dad.’ Ruby squeezed Tai’s arm. ‘It’s okay. Jaune made it memorable for me.’

‘What’s _that_ supposed to mean?’ asked Yang. She leaned over the table with a grin that was half-mocking, half-predatory.

Ruby affected offence. ‘I mean that he got me a thoughtful gift. Dirty mind.’

‘Whatever you say,’ said Yang. ‘Good for you, though. Haven’t had a decent birthday for a while.’

That, thought Ruby sadly, is a rabbit hole I am not going down this weekend. ‘Well,’ she began, ‘next year we’ll have to change that and have a real family get together.’

A family get together wasn’t what Yang was suggesting, but she smiled. ‘Sure, if you can drag yourself away from that frontier, I’d love to hear some stories. Better not get yourself killed or I’ll make sure Jaune is my birthday dinner.’

Not long after the defeat of Salem, Ruby had asked Qrow why he’d never started a family, if he had reasons besides his Semblance.

‘Besides that?’ he’d said. ‘Yeah, I got a few. The danger of my job, for one thing. But there’s something else that makes me pause. Every time I see Raven, I’m reminded that I’m always gonna be her overly serious idealistic little bro to her. We’re the same age, but that was the dynamic from the start. I had my head in the clouds and she was the hard-nosed realist. Easy for her to tease and mess with, always needed her looking out for me. I’ve got friends all around Remnant who see me in different ways, and I’d like to flatter myself that I’m more than just Raven’s straight man. Family gives you roles and it’s hard to escape them. Even so, not sure I made the right decision.’

Ruby hated that she was beginning to understand him.

* * *

All she recalled afterwards were visions of broken colours dispersed out of darkness, whirling cylindrically around her like a painted prison of red and black, and resolving into her own towering face—and then the light in her eyes pulled her back to the world.

Ruby awoke on a thin mattress in an unfamiliar room: a gleaming metal bed frame, fold out desk, white walls. She sat up hastily and came eye to eye with Jaune, who was in a chair by the bed. He straightened and sniffed away obvious emotion. His armour was off and he was in a plain navy sweater and worn jeans. Contrary to his previously stiff demeanour, his smile was weary and sincere.

‘Hi, Ruby,’ he said. ‘Welcome back.’

‘Jaune? What happened?’ Ruby realised she was in her black pyjamas, and her body ached indistinctly. ‘How long have I been out? Last thing I remember I was in the research lab in the basement and there was—something there.’

‘You’re in a guest room on the _Galahad_ ,’ said Jaune. ‘You’ve been unconscious for three days. It’s quarter past four right now. I moved you back here this morning after your condition stabilised.’

‘My condition?’

‘You were attacked by that life form you found in the basement,’ said Jaune. ‘Turns out Ormolu wasn’t being truthful with you.’

‘Shocker. Should’ve worn the hazmat suit.’

‘Yeah.’ Jaune’s tone was familiar rather than scolding. ‘But I’m happy you’re okay.’

‘Me too.’

‘It’s been a little while since we’ve seen each other,’ said Jaune. ‘With everything that happened last year I was pretty cold with you. Especially since you came here to save me.’

‘It’s alright.’

Jaune continued heedless of Ruby’s comment. ‘But I’ve spent the last three days regretting that I hadn’t taken the opportunity to tell you I’m really, really happy to see you again. I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you too.’ Ruby blinked heavily, eyes full of sleep. She rubbed them with her palms; her hands felt a little numb. Stretching her arms, she smiled at Jaune. ‘Missed you a lot. Best buddy.’

‘You are. I won’t forget that.’

‘I know,’ said Ruby. ‘But—back to the topic at hand.’

‘I guess work never waits.’ Jaune sighed.

‘Not in this life,’ said Ruby. ‘So what happened? What attacked me?’

‘A Grimm, kinda,’ Jaune explained. ‘A hybrid. A Grimm modified with human DNA. It requires a host to incubate. That’s why I’m here.’

‘Why you’re here?’

‘The human DNA was mine. That’s what the blood sample was for.’

The carapace of slumber disintegrated around Ruby’s mind. ‘That thing was made with your blood?’

‘I’ve learnt a lot of disturbing information in the past couple of days.’ Jaune scooted a little closer to the bed, his voice lowering. ‘You remember Mordecai Cinnabar?’

The name stung. ‘Too well.’

‘His organisation is behind the project. I guess Cinnabar got the idea when he saw my Semblance in action,’ said Jaune. ‘A Grimm hybrid with Aura like mine might not cannibalise itself.’

‘So,’ said Ruby, thinking it through, ‘you were baited here?’

‘Two birds, one stone kind of thing. Fortunate for them that I worked so near their old facility. We sometimes send other Huntsmen on that route, but according to Ormolu it’s been me nine out of ten times since I took up this post. They’d have shifted locations otherwise. Too close to Haven. But they decided to bet on the odds that the first Huntsman to notice the change in Grimm activity would be me. Ormolu said it felt like destiny.’ Jaune scowled.

‘And they made a hybrid with your DNA?’

‘Yeah. It survived. That’s what you encountered.’

‘And it got inside me.’

‘As I was saying,’ said Jaune. ‘It requires a human host to incubate. Until it finds one, it lies dormant. The host dies when the hybrid attacks the central nervous system. Then it becomes—something else.’

‘So Ormolu left it out in the open like that? Isn’t that, y’know, crazy?’

‘You’d think. Maybe they intended for you to be attacked—saw you coming and set it up. But I can’t comment on his motives. Don’t trust any of them is all I can say.’

Ruby drew up her knees, shivering. ‘Why am I alive?’

‘At first it looked bad,’ Jaune said. ‘Your condition was worsening as the hybrid was integrating with your system. Ormolu took samples of your infected tissue and—and we watched as they just kept growing and multiplying. I thought that there was no hope. I thought you were going to d—’

‘Jaune.’ Ruby interrupted as Jaune’s voice quavered. ‘Hiya, Jaune.’ She was a little croaky.

‘Hi, Ruby.’ He reached out to tousle her hair. The intimate gesture might’ve been strange from anyone else, but from Jaune it hit a specific chord of nostalgia.

‘Bedhead?’

‘Bedhead,’ said Jaune. He’d almost forgotten how soft and fine her hair was, how it whispered through his fingers.

Ruby’s wry expression was shadowed by reminiscence. ‘So what happened to me? How am I, well, alive?’

‘Ormolu kept insisting something would change. Guess he knew his stuff, because it did. The hybrid reached the final stage of infection and became more aggressive, but when it began to attack your nervous system, something else in you activated.’

Ruby pursed her lips as the pieces came together. ‘My eyes.’

‘Self-preservation must’ve kicked in,’ said Jaune. ‘Your eyes went white and the light spread through your body. It was vicious and immediate. The Grimm hybrid was completely destroyed.’

‘Lucky me.’ Ruby laughed uncomfortably. ‘Great job I did saving you, huh?’

‘I’m not in the cell anymore,’ said Jaune. ‘And I’ve got my sword back. As for you, Ormolu says you won’t be infected by the hybrid again.’

‘Won’t be infected?’

‘It’s like there’s been a vaccinating effect,’ Jaune explained. ‘Your eyes changed your body, made it adapt. Qrow collapsed twenty minutes after you did—’

‘No—’

‘He’s okay,’ said Jaune quickly. ‘Don’t worry. He’s on the bridge right now. A little worse for wear but otherwise fine. I’m no fan of Ormolu, but he was on the money about you and Qrow would probably be dead without him. He made a serum with your blood. Gave one to me too.’

‘My blood?’ Ruby looked at her hands. ‘Uncle Qrow…’

Jaune smiled to reassure her. ‘He’ll be happy to see you awake.’

‘That’d make it the first time I’ve used my eyes since…’ Ruby mouthed the words before she gave them voice. ‘Since you left.’

‘Really?’

‘I always used my mom in the past,’ said Ruby. ‘But it won’t work like it used to. Can’t seem to summon the right feeling.’

Jaune’s brow furrowed tenderly. ‘Wish I could help you there.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Ruby. ‘It’s my fight.’

Interlocking his fingers, Jaune nodded. ‘I’d like to say it’s ended now, but that’s not all I’ve got to tell you. At around noon today, there was a fire in the basement of the building. The other four evacuated here.’

‘A fire?’ Paranoia on Ruby’s skin like spider’s legs.

‘Yes. In the lab where the original hybrid cells were being stored, as well as the infected tissue samples they took from you. Ormolu claims to know nothing, but I doubt we’ll get the full story from him.’

Ruby rubbed her eyes. ‘This is a lot to take in. I need to report to Haven.’

‘Technically, that’s me,’ said Jaune. ‘Head of Operations, at your service. But I get what you mean. You’ve been working with Morgause?’

‘Yep. The call she put out to Beacon was general, but I have a feeling she wanted to get me on this job.’

Myrtle Morgause, Headmistress of Haven Academy. An ambitious and phlegmatic woman who succeeded Lionheart after his betrayal and death, she’d been a fairweather friend to RWBY throughout Salem’s War. With lazily caked-on makeup, a taste for tweed and her frizzy red hair in an excruciating beehive, she was a severe and commanding figure—quite the contrast with the anxious, twitchy Lionheart. Ruby wasn’t looking forward to the call, although at least she had a Head of Operations to present.

‘How’s Beacon? Still giving you the run of the place?’

Ruby smirked. ‘It’s pretty comfortable. I was offered the equivalent of your job, but I wanted to be in the field. So I guess I’m like a senior senior Huntress. No one really expects me to operate under direct command. I just go where I’m needed or do the jobs I want.’

‘Same as ever, then,’ said Jaune. ‘Working with anyone interesting?’

The smirk faltered. ‘Well, not really.’

‘So mostly solo, then?’

‘Yeah.’ Ruby avoided his gaze, fearing that she’d perceive sadness—or worse, pity—in his eyes.

‘I hope you’re—’ Jaune paused. ‘I hope it’s making you happy. I know how much you love the work.’

It’s not, she wanted to say. ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘I’ve always loved this work.’

‘I know.’ Jaune stood up. ‘Anyway, I bet you want to see Qrow and the others. And eat, for that matter. You must be starved. I’ll leave you to change into regular clothes.’

‘Uh, speaking of which,’ said Ruby haltingly, looking down at her bare toes with the faintest smile. ‘Who dressed me in my pyjamas?’

Jaune blanched. ‘D-d-dressed you?’ He babbled for a few moments. ‘...To tell you the truth, it was actually—me,’ he admitted. ‘But you should know—’

‘It’s fine,’ said Ruby hastily. ‘I’m just teasing. I figured it would’ve been you. I trust you.’

The look of relief she received was less guarded. ‘Thanks, Rubes.’

Ruby nodded and indulged nostalgia again as Jaune flashed the typical awkward grin that accompanied his leavetaking. The door closed, and Ruby, returned to solitude, dwelled on the same thoughts she’d been unable to dispel since the last time he’d left her alone.

* * *

The thirteenth was cloudier than the day of Ruby’s arrival in Patch, and her mismatched family rose to an obscure sky. After Qrow’s birthday lunch, which were hotdogs—he was easy to please with simple home comforts—they gathered in the living room for gift-giving. Dressed casually in a deep purple hoodie and jeans, Ruby perched between Qrow and Yang, shuffling with excitement on the edge of Tai’s long kelp-green sofa. Clasped with both hands on her lap, and messily wrapped in red paper, was her present. The placid Tai sat in the matching chair at the head of the coffee table.

‘So,’ he said, ‘are you girls going to do this?’

‘Ready when you are,’ said Yang. ‘You ready, Uncle Qrow?’

‘If you really gotta get your kumbayas out,’ said Qrow, lounging back.

‘Okay!’ Ruby thrust her box at Qrow. ‘My first present. Happy Birthday!’

‘Thanks, kid.’ Qrow lazily accepted the gift and pulled off the wrapping—the contents appeared to be a folded cream cloth. ‘Wha…?’ Pulling at the edges to unfurl it, Qrow’s confusion resolved as a woven image was displayed on the fabric. It depicted a natural, minimalist scene, vertically oriented down the yard of cloth: a stag gazing at a setting sun, feverish orange, and a pair of crows circling each other, with a maple tree in fall colours on the right hand side.

‘You told me you liked Mistrali textiles, right?’ asked Ruby. ‘I thought your apartment could use a little decorating, so I contacted an artist in Mistral and had Nora pick it up last time she and Ren visited. It’s called “Twilight”. Do you like it?’

Qrow’s brow rose in a surprised smile. ‘I do like it. It’s a real striking image. Simple but strong.’

‘Never knew you were such an artistic soul,’ said Yang, grinning.

Folding up the cloth, Qrow retorted, ‘Hey, I’m not some cultureless drunk, y’know.’

‘You’ll hate my gift, then,’ said Yang, handing over a long box whose contents were immediately apparent.

‘Now, now,’ said Qrow, ‘I only said I wasn’t a _cultureless_ drunk, didn’t I?’ Pulling off the lid and carefully extracting the bottle, he whistled. ‘Not bad.’

‘Dunno if you’ve ever checked out the distilleries in northern Vacuo,’ said Yang, ‘but I think they rival the best Atlesian whiskies.’

‘You got good taste.’ Qrow replaced the bottle and laid the box on the table. ‘Thanks.’

Yang winked and clicked her tongue against her teeth, snapping her fingers towards Qrow. ‘You bet I do.’ Catching Ruby’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. ‘You disapprove?’

Ruby’s expression collapsed into a smile and she rolled her eyes. ‘Just don’t encourage him too much.’

‘Still determined to be my personal matron,’ said Qrow, earning him a hard stare. ‘It’s alright, kid, you do me good.’

‘Seems like a service worth taking advantage of,’ said Tai. ‘Could’ve used it back it in the day.’ His tone was passionless.

Qrow’s gaze trailed off Tai towards the window and the blank spotless clouds that rose like a wall over the trees. ‘Yeah, probably.’ Ruby glanced between them anxiously as he continued, ‘Think I’m gonna take a breather for a minute.’ Quickly, he rose and strode towards the exit to the hall.

‘Wait, Uncle Qrow! I ha—’

Scowling, Qrow closed the door and stalked down the dark hallway, only for the light of the living room to chase after him, carrying a hasty little shadow.

‘Uncle Qrow.’ Ruby caught him as he was about to reach for his flask.

‘What is it, kid?’ sighed Qrow. ‘If you’re here to try and pep talk me…’ For a second, with his beard and morose expression captured at an unfamiliar angle, Ruby was scared by old he looked.

‘I-I had another present,’ she said.

‘Another?’

‘I was just about to give it to you back there,’ Ruby explained, ‘but Dad was…and then you walked out…’

‘S’okay.’ The left side of Qrow’s mouth formed a crooked smile. ‘What is it?’

Ruby pulled something out of her little black pouch and held out her hand. ‘Here.’ Obliging her with a droll expression, Qrow flipped his palm up and she dropped the heavy little object in the centre. It was a flat metal ring, silver and darkly embossed with the Rose family crest that Ruby displayed on her cloak.

‘I got it made specially,’ she said. ‘I thought it’d match your others.’

‘Aw, you didn’t have to—’

‘Do you like it?’ Ruby blurted out. ‘I just thought—we don’t see each other as much, and with both Yang and I gone from home you don’t have much reason to come around here, but I want you to remember that you’re part of the family. Part of my family, anyway.’

‘That’s so cheesy, Rubes,’ Qrow said, his voice catching. ‘What am I supposed to do with you?’ Carefully, he pushed the ring over his middle finger, admiring it in the dim light.

Ruby held her arms up expectantly and Qrow, muttering something unintelligible, gave her another hug. ‘Be Uncle Qrow,’ she whispered. ‘And I’ll be Ruby Rose. Happy Birthday.’

‘Sure,’ said Qrow. Moving his lips vaguely, he gave up on speaking after a moment and raised his hand to stroke Ruby’s hair.

‘Are you alright?’

‘You didn’t have to,’ said Qrow, ‘but thanks.’

Ruby patted him on the back. ‘Of course I did.’

‘Guess I better get back there.’

‘Mmm.’

With Ruby’s encouragement, Qrow returned to the sofa in visibly lighter spirits. ‘Looks like my personal matron’s branded me,’ he said, displaying the new ring.

‘Is that…?’ started Yang. ‘Aw, that’s just sweet.’

‘We’re not blood-related,’ said Ruby, ‘so I thought it’d be nice for him to have something tying him to the Rose family.’ She looked at Tai, who smiled back at her gently.

‘That’s my girl,’ he said. ‘Some things never change.’ He turned to Qrow. ‘Sticking with the “Qrow, man of culture” theme, I got you a couple theatre coupons.’ He laid them on the table and slid them across to Qrow. ‘I remember your Beacon days, the drama club—’

‘That’s where you stop,’ said Qrow. ‘Got enough image problems with this one as is.’ He jerked his thumb at Ruby.

‘Won’t you take me to the theatre, Uncle Qrow?’ asked Ruby in a mock-pleading tone.

‘Careful,’ said Yang, ‘he might actually do it.’

The moment of difficulty past, Ruby yawned and slouched back, crossing her legs. ‘Hey, I’m not cultureless either.’

‘We’ll see about that.’ Qrow flipped up the coupons and pocketed them. ‘I’ll give you a pop quiz on the great postwar playwrights on the way there.’

‘You’re on, old man.’

As she laughed, Ruby felt the eyes of her father and sister upon her again, and couldn’t forget the unease. What a balance to preserve: with both sides applying pressure, the cloud couldn’t burst. Without missing a beat, she laughed some more.

* * *

After dressing in her usual gear, Ruby joined Qrow and Jaune on the bridge of the _Galahad_ to regroup. Qrow was the first to hug her, for once, and Ruby winced with guilt as she saw his bloodshot eyes.

‘You dumb kid,’ he said. ‘You better not do anything like that again.’

‘Sure, Uncle Qrow.’ Ruby held back the emotion for his sake. ‘If I encounter another secret bioweapons lab, I’ll keep clear.’ Qrow didn’t reply but he patted her back affectionately and she inhaled his familiar scent, grateful for the reminder of home. ‘Heard I’m the cure,’ she added. ‘Lucky me.’

‘Seems like I owe you my life this time,’ said Qrow. ‘Those eyes sure come in handy. I’ll take you to the toy store when we’re back on the mainland, okay?’

‘Whatever you say,’ laughed Ruby.

The reunion over with, they got to planning their next step. ‘We should chat with Ormolu and the others before we call Morgause,’ said Jaune. ‘And that guy Blau probably deserves a thanks for the excess hospitality.’

Ruby and Qrow agreed. As it happened, they found them talking in Ulrich Blau’s messy little office. The captain rose heavily from his chair as Ruby entered. Ormolu turned with a look of cool surprise. He had changed into an understated and anonymous outfit: a creased white oxford shirt and black trousers.

‘Huntress,’ said Blau, fiddling with his sideburns. ‘Glad to see you’re still breathing. As you can see, we have a few extras onboard. The Faunus is poorly and lying down below deck. The military woman and the old fellow are down there with him.’

‘Thanks,’ said Ruby. ‘And thanks for accommodating us under the circumstances.’

‘Job’s the job,’ said Blau simply. ‘Besides, I never did have a conversation partner odd as this ‘un here.’ He laughed as Ormolu bared his teeth icily. ‘See if you can get two sensible sentences together out of him. I can’t make heads nor tails. Imagine you want a stern word after what happened.’

‘We do need to talk to him.’

‘I’m out of your way, then. By the way, I set up that Faunus Claret in the room left of yours if you want to see him.’ Ruby thanked Blau again as he lumbered out, then turned sharply to Ormolu.

‘Ms. Rose, it’s good to see you alive,’ he said.

‘Let’s not waste time on pleasantries,’ said Ruby. ‘Just what happened here? Why was that _thing_ left unattended? Did you want me to die?’

‘That’s awfully conspiratorial,’ said Ormolu testily. ‘Your close encounter with death seems to have left you unphased.’

‘When a bunch of spies and scientists collaborate in secret to make a puddle of killer Grimm vomit against international precedents in place since the Great War,’ said Ruby, ‘we generally call it a conspiracy.’

‘Touché.’ Ormolu tightened his ponytail with a delicate tug. ‘But no, the intention was not to kill you. You shouldn’t have entered without a hazmat suit. That we found a way to kill it before it incubates was a fortunate coincidence.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘You don’t have to,’ said Ormolu. ‘Anyway, I’m sure you have more pressing concerns.’

‘The fire.’

‘We have flammable chemicals in the lab,’ explained Ormolu. ‘And the means to set them off. That’s the most likely cause. One of the Grimm could’ve escaped, but that’s improbable. My hypothesis is that we have something else down there.’

Ruby recognised the phrase as Jaune’s from her earlier conversation. ‘Something else? You didn’t see it?’ She raised her eyebrow, leaning back against Blau’s desk.

‘We evacuated promptly when the alarms went off,’ said Ormolu. ‘But it’s possible that the hybrid completed its incubation.’

Ruby’s eyes widened. ‘The infected samples…’

‘I thought Ruby was immune,’ said Jaune.

‘She is,’ said Ormolu. ‘But she only became immune when her Silver Eyes activated: a gift from the God of Life. And although her blood may be uniquely resistant to the Grimm, perhaps that power only exacerbated the situation. Perhaps that power killed only the weak among the hybrid cells and left us with the strongest specimens. Perhaps the experiment succeeded.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ said Ruby.

Ormolu raised his spidery hands in a gesture of nonchalance. ‘Or maybe one of you opened up the Nuckelavee’s cell by mistake. But I would like to think the frontiers of human inquiry expanded today.’

Ruby’s hands balled into fists as her frustration articulated itself. ‘Just what is your game here?’

‘My game?’ Ormolu shrugged. ‘Advance the cause of knowledge and science. Has been since I was younger than you.’

‘It’s insane. What’s even in there waiting for us? Do I want to know?’

‘I’m interested to find out. Aren’t you?’

‘I’m interested in killing it.’

‘Ah, of course,’ said Ormolu. ‘The perfect Huntress.’

Ruby tilted her head forward as the words brought forth an image from memory. ‘Those were General Ironwood’s words.’

‘Indeed.’ Ormolu looked away from Ruby thoughtfully, grazing his knuckles on the edge of the desk. ‘I remember seeing you, you know. The invasion of Atlas. The General always said you were the perfect Huntress, but I’d never seen you before that day, never realised the things of which you were capable.’

‘My eyes.’

Ormolu was sunk in absorption, his cruel features almost unmoving as he spoke. ‘So many Grimm it was unthinkable that Atlas could withstand it. And there you were, heartbreakingly vulnerable, so tiny above the army of men and machines. Huntsmen, Specialists, Paladins. The greatest force marshalled by any power and you put them to shame, all the vast concourse of Atlas. The light lashing out like wings enveloping your enemies. The Gryphons and Nevermores gone. The Wyverns falling into the arctic tomb of the sea. The purest and most perfect expression of the entire history of Huntsmen, the moment to which their era was destined to arrive.’

‘It was what I had to do.’

‘You prove my point with your humility!’ exclaimed Ormolu. ‘Atlas, you know, is a place of great pride. Pride in heritage and pride in skill. But your talent was more than that. You were effortlessly, thoughtlessly brilliant, an instrument of divine action. You redeemed a whole world-system that the wise men of Remnant had consigned to Salem’s doom. Not out of pride, but because it was born inside of you.’

Tossing her hair gently, Ruby tutted. ‘I had help.’

‘True,’ said Ormolu. ‘But without you they’re nothing. It’s in your power, your person, even how you fight. The stragglers dived towards you on the white cliffs, and you slid into the sky and waltzed between them, slicing, spinning, ascending. Nothing brittle, nothing tense, everything natural and immanent. It’s more than just a pair of eyes; you were God’s acrobat. And after that, nothing could be the same. After that, everything was downhill for the old system of Huntsmen and Grimm. You were brilliant enough to be the agent of history, Ruby; but you still have to live in the world you changed. That’s my game: imagining new worlds.’

‘If you’re not going to tell us anything useful, save your breath.’ Ruby straightened, rolling her shoulders back. ‘I’ll speak to Haven administration and—if they give us the okay—we’ll probably head back up to the station after I’ve recovered a little.’

‘You can stand on the front lines if you like,’ Qrow added. ‘See that Semblance of yours in action, yeah?’

‘Be careful what you wish for,’ said Ormolu.

‘Ruby will oblige you if you’re too squeamish.’ Qrow winked. ‘Want to talk to the other three?’ he asked Ruby.

‘Let’s do Morgause first,’ said Ruby. ‘I doubt they’re in a ‘splaining mood and the mission’s technically done. We should find out what Haven wants before we proceed.’

‘You want me to leave, I assume?’ Ormolu stood up.

‘That’d be good,’ said Jaune. Ormolu nodded and left the office in his airy, inconspicuous way, ignoring the three pairs of suspicious eyes on him. After the door closed, Jaune muttered ‘What a headcase.’

‘You can say that again.’ Ruby exhaled as if to clear out bad air. ‘Ready for the old windbag?’

Jaune exclaimed ‘Ruby!’ but he was laughing. ‘She’s my boss, you know.’

‘My condolences.’ Ruby pulled out her scroll and propped it up on the desk. ‘Qrow, could you watch the door for eavesdroppers?’

Qrow moved to do so. ‘We’re clear.’

‘Alright, let’s get it over with. Steel yourselves.’ Exaggerating exasperation with a wiggle of her eyebrows, Ruby tapped the contacts icon and began the call.

Morgause picked up after only a couple of rings, her wide, affectless face flickering into view on the screen. Seeing the three Huntsmen standing before her, she tilted her head towards the scroll, her glasses sliding down her knobbly nose as she studied them.

‘Ms. Rose,’ she said. ‘You’ve found my Head of Operations. Hello, Jaune.’

‘Good afternoon, Ms. Morgause!’ Jaune overperformed a toothy smile. ‘I’m all safe.’

‘Yes, I have, ma’am,’ said Ruby.

‘Good.’ Morgause’s tone was brisk.

Ruby began, ‘We have some info—’

‘Will you be coming back with him now?’ interrupted Morgause. ‘It _has_ been a few days.’

‘Well,’ Ruby started again, ‘we have some information to report about this place that may interest Haven and the Mistrali Council.’

‘I see.’

‘The research station here is funded by Atlas Military Intelligence,’ said Ruby. ‘They’re performing experiments on Grimm. Not the first time either, but long story short they’ve created some kind of Grimm-human hybrid.’

A serene blink from Morgause. ‘Like Cinder Fall?’

‘Not exactly,’ replied Ruby. ‘It nearly killed me before I used my Silver Eyes, so I guess it’s got that in common with Cinder. But no, it wasn’t humanoid. Pretty amorphous.’

‘Amorphous?’

Ruby explained her encounter with the hybrid in the petri dish, described its incubation process, and informed Morgause of the fire in the basement. ‘Do you want us to come back to Argus or should we continue?’

‘Proceed,’ said Morgause. ‘If I’m understanding you properly, you’re all three immune to the creature, yes?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Very good. Return to the station. When you have more precise details on what Atlas is doing, you or Jaune contact me at once.’

‘Roger,’ said Ruby. She gave Morgause the names of all those at the station. ‘AMI’s in this, so Mordecai Cinnabar’s a person of interest too.’

‘I shall be in communication with the Council,’ said Morgause. ‘Good work so far. Be assured I’ll update you if anything changes. Keep in touch.’ Her lips widened into a froggy smile that was both too large for her face and grossly inexpressive.

‘We will.’ Ruby sighed noisily as the image vanished. ‘What a cold fish.’

‘She’s good at her job,’ said Jaune.

‘Then I’m not sure the job’s good for the rest of us.’

Qrow spoke up. ‘Looks like Ulrich Blau’s coming back at a pace. Looks worried.’

Ruby raised her chin in a sharp, practiced manner. Presently, the fisherman made his hurried entrance, woolen coat flapping and face ruddy.

‘Mr. Blau?’ said Ruby.

‘Ormolu’s left the boat,’ he said. ‘He’s gone back to the station.’

Jaune looked at Ruby. Ruby looked at Blau. Blau looked at Qrow as he grunted with frustration and slammed a fist into the wall.

‘Thought you ought to know,’ added Blau.


	5. Illuminations on the sky

It was sleeting outside and the air was bright and sharp with the approach of dusk. Surveying the empty beach from the pier with her hood up, Ruby decided that haste would do no good in hunting down Ormolu; he had nowhere to run on an island this small, and being a calculating sort, he likely had a defensive plan of engagement. Jaune and Qrow stood behind Ruby as her eyes flicked coolly between the peaks and the flat-roofed buildings of the station. She took stock of her options. Given that the mystery arsonist still remained in the facility, Ormolu was either taking an extraordinarily reckless action out of impatience and desperation, or he was acting on information she didn’t possess; and the former seemed unfeasible.

In other words, it was probable that Ormolu was quite aware of what caused the fire and had reason to believe he could use it to his advantage.

‘You two stay here and question the others,’ said Ruby. ‘I’ll scout out the building. I think he’s planning something.’

‘Alone?’ asked Jaune.

‘I won’t get too close and keep outside if I can. And I can get back to the beach quick.’

‘So can I,’ said Qrow. ‘Don’t forget I can always—take wing, so to speak.’

Ruby scratched her ear thoughtfully as she considered the opaque windows of the main building. ‘I’ll admit a crow stands out less. Could you try and get a look through the windows or are they too dark?’

Qrow squinted at the terrain around the station. ‘See what I can do. I’ll start in the trees and approach carefully.’

With a curt nod, Ruby turned back to her companions. ‘Crows aren’t exactly seabirds and I’m not going to put it past Ormolu to know more than he should about you. Promise you’ll be extra super careful, okay?’ She looked at Qrow seriously.

‘Sure.’

‘Say you promise.’

‘I promise.’

‘Promise what?’

Qrow pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I promise I’ll be careful.’

‘Extra…’

‘…Extra super careful,’ Qrow said in a defeated tone, though he managed a weary smile at Ruby’s cheek. ‘Don’t let the other three out of your sight, alright?’

‘Count on it,’ said Ruby.

‘Alright. See you in a few.’ With a cocky grin, Qrow took a running jump off the pier, shifting seamlessly into his secondary form in midair. The great black wings spread, and the crow dipped and soared into a high arc, bending towards the beach. Ruby watched as he slid leftwards to the copse by the gate, and shifted her weight restlessly from one foot to the other.

‘Can’t say I expected to see you of all people making someone promise not to be reckless.’ Jaune came up to stand parallel with her, hands stuffed in his pockets.

‘Very funny,’ said Ruby. ‘Do you have any ideas on what part of the puzzle we’re still missing here? I’m starting to get a handle on it, I think, but I’d like to know your thoughts.’

Jaune sucked air through his teeth. ‘I do have an idea but—let’s talk to Claret. I have a feeling about him.’

Ruby agreed, smiling politely. ‘Your feelings usually have something to them.’ Jaune answered with a noncommittal grunt, shivering as the breeze picked up. Somewhere far away, thunder growled in response to the surging sea.

Ruby and Jaune returned to the apologetic Ulrich Blau in his office, who directed them to the cabins below deck.

‘The Faunus is in the bed and the other two are attending to him,’ he said. ‘Old man seemed morose, the woman—Chrysoprase, was it?—I don’t know about her. Wrapped up in her own thoughts, I s’ppose.’

In silence they descended to the lower deck; Ruby stared absently at the blue funnel looming over them as she thudded down the stairs, running her hand down the wet iron railing. At this distance, the buildings of the research station, boxy and stout, looked like little grey models from a board game. Qrow, of course, was not visible. The smell of salt began to wear on Ruby’s senses.

Below, the hall swayed strangely with the tide; the lights flickered. Ruby approached the door to Claret’s cabin.

‘Look sharp,’ she said to Jaune. ‘You ready?’

‘Let’s go.’

Vere Claret was lying on top of the blankets, still dressed in his clothes, his charcoal waistcoat unbuttoned and his belly a little protrusive beneath the white shirt. His breaths were ragged and his eyes unfocussed. Pelles sat by him in his navy waterproof gear, looking at the dirty cream wall behind the bed. On the opposite side of the room, Major Chrysoprase leant against the wall near the desk, arms folded and face shrewd, unreadable.

‘Good to see you made it, Ruby Rose,’ said Pelles. ‘He went back to the station, didn’t he?’

Ruby interlocked and cracked her fingers, ignoring his comment. ‘What’s wrong with Claret?’

‘Chronic back pain,’ said Pelles, looking at Ruby ironically.

‘Let’s be real.’

Claret made a sickly retching sound. ‘Come now. I could pluck the most tragic indigent out of darkest Mistral and they’d never fall for that one.’

‘I have to say,’ Pelles said, ‘you’ve got the acerbic sense of humour down pat.’

‘I suppose I was born with it.’ Claret’s voice was thin and whispery, trailing off into a quiet, almost animalistic growl in the back of his throat. His polecat nose twitched desperately.

‘Is it the hybrid causing this?’ Ruby asked. ‘Like with me?’

‘No,’ said Jaune before Pelles could reply. ‘You and Qrow were fully unconscious the entire time. This is different. Definitely different.’

‘But not entirely separate,’ added Pelles.

Ruby’s frown relaxed as comprehension flashed through her eyes. ‘Jaune,’ she began, ‘do you think…?’

‘Yep,’ said Jaune.

Ruby nodded. ‘Ormolu isn’t just hypothesising that the hybrid completed its incubation, is he?’

‘No,’ said Pelles.

‘Let me introduce myself,’ murmured Vere Claret, not looking at Ruby, ‘as subject zero.’

‘I can’t believe I missed a detail this big,’ said Ruby. ‘You used Jaune as the basis for the human part of the hybrid to give it an Aura boost, but I never asked…’

‘What Grimm you used,’ completed Jaune.

Ruby recalled Pelles’ words in the basement. ‘“The real prize is in the aquarium.” The Selkie. AMI. Intelligence and espionage. I’m an idiot for not seeing it.’

‘I’d say you’re doing well for a wee mite,’ said Pelles. ‘Dependent on your final conclusion, of course.’

Ruby said, ‘Ormolu made a shapeshifter.’

‘Correct,’ replied Pelles.

‘It infected Vere Claret and incubated,’ Ruby continued.

‘Correct.’

‘This man here’—Ruby pointed at Claret—‘is not Vere Claret.’

‘Depends on your perspective,’ said Pelles. ‘He’s got all the genetic material to be Vere Claret. But no, he isn’t Vere Claret in the way you mean.’

The man on the bed groaned and retched again. ‘I’m dreadful hungry.’

‘We never should have come back here.’ The deep, abrupt voice was Chrysoprase’s; the room turned to her. ‘Never should’ve trusted that snake Cinnabar and his filthy money.’

Pelles scraped his nails through his beard, gaze drifting. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’

Rubbing short fingers over her hair, Chrysoprase _tsk_ ed. ‘Don’t. The more I think about this, the worse it gets.’

‘Ahem,’ coughed Ruby, raising her hand. ‘Pelles, start talking.’

Pelles shared a look with Claret—or the creature in his skin—and nodded. ‘Few months ago,’ he began, ‘Cinnabar contacted the old team who worked here and told them he had the support and funds to revive the Selkie project. Where he found them is anyone’s guess. There was some scepticism, understandably; but, once your friend Jaune’s Aura was explained, they decided to take the risk. Pretty stupid, eh?’

‘Go on,’ said Ruby.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ whispered Claret. ‘They made the hybrid and gave it to my unfortunate predecessor. It killed him and used his genetic information to become—me.’

‘Vere Claret wasn’t just given the hybrid,’ said Pelles. ‘He was tricked—by the man who’s currently nursing his newer, better creation.’

‘Ormolu? And the creation is…?’

Obscured by the beard, Pelles’ smile was enigmatic. ‘With regard to the creature that caused the fire, what you’re thinking is probably correct.’

Jaune spoke up. ‘Pelles, if I use my Aura on Claret, will it help?’

‘Very kind,’ said Claret, ‘but you do know I’m Grimm, yes?’ His voice and breathing had become raspier.

‘Won’t work,’ said Pelles. ‘His Aura’s given up the ghost. The process of self-cannibalisation has begun.’

Glancing at the sweat beading on Claret’s forehead, a pulse of nausea vibrated through Ruby. Cinder Fall, the most infamous hybrid of Grimm and man, had nothing on this. Nor did the Selkie’s imitation of a child. The Selkie was a mere facsimile; this was a genetic human in private battle with his own destabilising existence, with a darkness at the heart of his being—a battle he was losing.

‘Don’t feel so bad,’ Claret murmured. ‘Although I will admit your emissions of negative feeling rather improve my state of mind.’

‘A detail still bothers me,’ said Ruby, looking at Pelles with direct eyes.

‘Hmm?’ said Pelles.

‘Just who are _you_?’

Before Pelles could speak, there was a rap at the door.

‘Huntress.’ The voice of Ulrich Blau. ‘Your uncle’s back. And he’s got—something like a message from the station.’

Ruby’s expression, as it returned to Pelles, was knowing and defiant. The old man withered a little.

‘You have a hypothesis,’ he said. ‘Care to put it to the test?’

‘Mr. Blau?’ Ruby called, gaze never leaving Pelles. ‘Let my uncle in.’

* * *

‘Personally,’ said Yang, ‘I think the whole thing’s a bit of a joke. No offence, I know it’s your whole deal right now.’

‘None taken. But what makes you say that?’ asked Ruby.

It was dinner time: lamb chops, peas, cabbage and roast potatoes with plenty of gravy and mint sauce. A plain meal to which none of the four gathered at Taiyang’s house would object, least of all Qrow. Ruby and Yang had cooked together; they hadn’t done anything like that since at least Ruby’s Beacon days. Despite the intervening years, they still made a good team.

‘Because,’ began Yang, ‘there used to be a time when a Huntress was considered suspicious for associating herself with a kingdom. Nowadays it’s the opposite. Sure, you’re helping people on the frontier, but at the end of the day, you’re serving political masters at Vale.’

‘You’re not wrong,’ Ruby admitted. ‘I trust Oscar to represent us well enough on the Council, but honestly, I try to keep above the politics. Helping as many people as I can is more important to me than who gives me the paycheck.’ With typical aplomb, she seized a lamb chop and bit into it decisively.

Yang took a draught of water. ‘Blake wasn’t always so comfortable working unaffiliated either. Think she only did because it was me.’

With a thoughtful expression, Taiyang tapped his fork against the plate. ‘I might’ve objected to working for Vale in my younger days, but I can see Ruby’s perspective too. It’s worth trying to accept the things you can’t control. What do you think, Qrow?’

Qrow started to hear his name. ‘What do I think?’ he said, muffled by a mouthful of cabbage. ‘The world changes, I guess. You just gotta do what you can and stick to your convictions.’ His answer elicited an affectionate look from Ruby and a chuckle from Yang.

‘Gods, that’s so _you_.’ Yang speared a potato and stuffed it in her mouth whole. ‘You know, Rubes, without my old storybooks and Qrow doing the hero routine, I wonder how you’d’ve turned out. Doing something safer, probably.’

‘You’re one to talk.’

Yang shrugged. ‘I like the road.’

‘You’re still working alone?’ asked Ruby.

‘Yeah.’ Yang gestured with her fork as she swallowed. ‘Mind you, it’s sometimes easier working alone. I spent a lot of time working with the Matsuda Syndicate when they moved HQ to southern Vacuo during the Mistral reforms. Difficult to get Huntsmen on jobs like that, ‘cause the so-called international community doesn’t approve. Blake wouldn’t have liked it. Stuff like that reminds her of her past. But they’re just trying to survive, y’know? They protect people that the state can’t protect.’

‘I remember you saying that,’ said Ruby. ‘The Matsuda Syndicate stuff. Was that when Blake was with that—stag Faunus, was it? From Mistral.’

‘Nah, that was two years ago. This was a little under a year ago, last time we split.’

‘Sorry, you must’ve mentioned it when we talked.’

‘Yep,’ said Yang, ‘but I’m sure you were too wrapped up in your own little crush to remember the details.’ She grinned, and Ruby tutted.

‘Don’t be like that.’

‘Don’t deny it!’ Yang’s tone deepened as she teased her. ‘It’s not such a bad thing. Even if it is Jaune.’

‘Nothing’s happened, Yang.’

‘Maybe it should.’ Yang waggled her eyebrows. ‘Sure beats rolling round the slums of Vacuo by yourself.’

‘ _Yaaang_.’

‘Blake really doesn’t like Vacuo, you know.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Ruby. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned her.’

‘Ruby.’ The teasing was gone. ‘Don’t you want to talk about her?’

‘No,’ said Ruby. ‘I don’t. Can’t we just finish dinner?’

‘You haven’t even asked,’ said Yang. ‘We haven’t seen each other in six months and I thought you’d want to ask about her.’

Ruby exhaled slowly before speaking, staring at her remaining potatoes. ‘It’d make us feel bad.’

‘Girls…’ Tai began.

‘Ugh!’ Yang slammed her palm on the table. ‘The hell is wrong with you?’ The plates shuddered, and Ruby laid down her cutlery to give Yang her full attention.

‘Every time,’ said Ruby. ‘Every time it’s the same no-win situation. I’m not going to play the game.’

‘You think it’s a game,’ Yang spat. ‘Of course you do. Little Miss Above It All. When did you become so selfish?’

Ignore the hurt. ‘When I realised you weren’t going to stop,’ replied Ruby.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Yang. ‘I’m the emotional mess running around trying to make you happy, and you’re just so reasonable and detached with your high ideals, because you’re the most perfect Huntress and the leader of team RWBY just like when we were teenagers. It’s getting old. Just stop.’

Anger made its uncharacteristic appearance in steel eyes. ‘Then you stop trying to make everyone in your life responsible for your feelings and damning them when they stop needing you. It’s not my fault we don’t see Blake anymore.’

‘Girls, please’ said Tai. ‘Ruby, your sister’s been through a lot—’

‘She’s always been through a lot, Dad,’ said Ruby, tears prickling. ‘But I’m sorry.’ She turned to Qrow. ‘I’m sorry for messing up your birthday.’

Qrow waved his hand dismissively.

‘Oh, you apologise to him, of course,’ said Yang.

‘Please don’t,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m going to see Mom. I need a timeout.’

‘I think that’s a good idea,’ said Tai.

Ruby paused to stabilise her feelings once she was a dozen yards clear of the claustrophobia. The ragged light of the afternoon made her squint, the sky the colour of paper. The beech trees murmured in the wind like gossiping friends. She breathed the cool air, her wet eyes drying in the November chill.

A hand touched her shoulder.

‘Oh, it’s just you.’ Ruby forced a smile for Qrow. ‘Kinda awkward to come after me and leave those two, isn’t it?’ The responding smirk guided her expression into authenticity.

‘My turn this time,’ said Qrow. ‘They were staring daggers at me so I figured I’d make my excuses before I ended up dessert. They’ll feel better for being able to talk it out in private. Besides, the woods are dangerous, right?’

‘Not half as much since Salem,’ said Ruby. ‘But thanks. I feel bad they’re blaming you for my mistake.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’

Ruby continued, ‘Pretty lame, huh? Never saw this part of the story coming.’

‘No one does, kid.’ Qrow tousled her hair. ‘You just gotta live with it. Happens to the closest of friends. Some point you’re lucky if you got one or two people who are on your wavelength.’

‘I guess I got one or two.’ Ruby couldn’t repress a sad, pointed little smile at her uncle. ‘But it seems unfair on them.’

‘What’s unfair,’ said Qrow, ‘is that I’m out here and not Tai.’

Ruby hugged him again. Qrow made a mild protest as he returned it.

‘Damn it. Thought that deadbeat would’ve learnt some new tricks by now.’

‘Is okay. He loves me. Not his fault.’ Ruby’s grip was fierce. ‘He just feels guilty for the times he wasn’t there for Yang.’

‘And who was there for you?’

‘Yang was.’ Ruby rubbed Qrow’s shoulder. ‘And you were, too.’

‘Then whose fault is it?’

‘After that drama,’ said Ruby, ‘who cares? It’s your birthday. Today should be about you.’

‘You know I don’t care about that stuff.’

‘I do.’ Ruby released Qrow and stepped back. ‘You’re always thinking of me. Let me treat you nicely.’

‘You’re a real wet blanket,’ Qrow grumbled. ‘Anyway, I’ve been meaning to mention: teaching out here in the sticks can get pretty boring, so if a real exciting job ever comes up in Vale, give me a call, okay? I might just consider coming for a little visit if you made it worth the trip.’

Ruby rolled her eyes and grinned at his reticence. ‘Thanks. Happy Birthday.’

‘Alright,’ said Qrow, ‘we gonna go see Summer? Hope you don’t mind me hogging her for a few minutes.’

‘Knock yourself out,’ said Ruby. ‘As long as you return the favour.’

Summer’s grave was on a cliff overlooking the wildest northeastern forests of Patch; the path there snaked through the region with the highest concentration of Grimm on the island. It was forty minutes of rough ground even from Tai’s place and few had the skills or the wherewithal to make the ultimately futile journey. But with Salem gone, it was a pleasant and solitary walk, its infamy alone keeping away most ramblers.

And so too was it solitary on Qrow’s birthday. Despite or perhaps because of the spectre of that house behind them, all its loaded looks and sighs of omission, the walk was consolation to Ruby and Qrow alike. Without needing to speak, both realised that their burdens were equal and shared; without noticing when the change had happened, they now related to one another as adults.

As they walked, evening turned down the overcast off-white above them to a dim peach. The trees that had been dulled with night rains were now illuminations on the sky; leaves the colours of brandy and red wine complemented the pink mists of the heavenly dome. Ruby and Qrow halted before the thicket that concealed Summer’s grave.

‘You first,’ said Ruby.

‘She’d want to see you.’

‘She will see me,’ Ruby replied. ‘Go on, birthday bird.’

Qrow groaned. ‘That was corny even from you. Just one more thing.’

‘Hmm?’

‘That Jaune kid really does start putting the moves on you, you tell me so I know who needs a late-night visit, yeah?’

‘Go and see Mom, you doof.’

Qrow’s laughter was unreserved as he set off through the corridor of trees to the cliff’s edge, his aspect soft under the rosy canopy.

* * *

From a perch buried in the hardy pine trees that clustered like curious animals around the entrance to the quarry, a crow observed the buildings of the Corbin Military Research Station. The flat, intelligent eyes perceiving no danger, it hopped and fluttered carefully through the branches, attentive to any sign of movement within and without the compound. The jagged cliff, towering over the enclosed area, shone against the storm clouds, bare stone amphibiously white in the icy rain.

The coast was clear. Diving into the wind, the crow flew low, arcing by the windows. No luck: they were dark and reflective, entirely opaque. Qrow released a low, irritated warble. Lightning tore through the dusk; the startled bird flew to another conifer at the eastern edge of the quarry and landed on a shadowed branch. The main building and the warehouse were both visible from his vantage point, but the interiors remained obscured. Ruffling his feathers, the crow prepared to leave.

Then the back door swung open.

Qrow halted. Watchfully, he lowered his wings. A low murmur drifted from the building, although rain obstructed the voices. One of them was female.

Ormolu appeared first. His gracile form shimmered in the sleet as he opened an umbrella for his companion. She was dressed in plain, oversized clothes and her features were a little blurred by the weather, but there was no mistaking her identity.

She didn’t seem interested in the proffered umbrella. A hand rose, palm up, to feel the droplets. Her hair looked black under the smoky clouds, and the rain flattened it against a small face with ingenuous, epicene features. The head tilted up, scanning the stony enclosure from left to right, settling finally on the crow resting in the pine trees.

Large, familiar silver eyes met his gaze.

Before Qrow could summon a reaction, the girl had turned and was striding purposefully towards the warehouse alongside Ormolu. As they vanished into the building, Qrow moved as if to fly, but thought better of it. He recalled Percy Violet’s story: the warehouse housed the weapons.

The pair returned outside after a few tense minutes; as Qrow had suspected, they’d retrieved arms. The girl carried an Atlesian Dust-activated sabre, Red Hilt-class: a curved sword with a single-handed ergonomic grip. In the other hand, she had a crossbow, while Ormolu carried a sniper rifle. They were, Qrow reflected, probably the same weapons she might’ve chosen—excluding the crossbow.

As if to clarify that decision, the girl raised the weapon and aimed it at him with the practiced speed Qrow had learnt to expect from only one Huntress. He jerked out of the way, but the arrow rushed safely past his position and hit the trunk of the tree. There was a note tied to the shaft.

Qrow looked at Ormolu and the girl—they were moving back towards the main building. Gripping the arrow in his talons, Qrow pulled it from the tree, and flew.

Back at the _Galahad_ the storm jostled the vessel in an easy rhythm. Descending directly onto the deck, Qrow returned to his human form as he landed, grasping the arrow in his hand. He discarded the projectile and unrolled the note. As he inspected the short message, his distant, shocked expression drew into a grimace.

Ulrich Blau was pacing about below deck. When he saw Qrow, he pointed to one of the cabin doors.

‘They’re in there.’

‘I need to see them.’ Qrow raised the little square of paper. ‘Something from our friends at the research station.’

Blau nodded, then turned to knock on the door. ‘Huntress. Your uncle’s back. And he’s got—something like a message from the station.’

A few moments. ‘Mr. Blau. Let my uncle in.’

The atmosphere in the cabin was tense. Pelles and Ruby were staring each other down. Jaune stood behind Ruby, arms crossed. Claret was moaning quietly on the bed.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ said Qrow, ‘but you’ll want to see this.’

‘Got some news of my own, actually,’ replied Ruby, still looking at Pelles.

‘Ruby.’ Qrow held out the note. ‘Read it.’

Hearing the urgency in his voice, Ruby broke her gaze and took the paper. It was a little wet and the ink a little smudged, but the words were quite legible—not least because the handwriting was altogether too familiar to Ruby. Her expression tightened and she straightened defensively as she read the short, childish message:

_HI MOMMY_

_I’M WAITING FOR YOU_

_LOVE RUBYROSEGRIMM_

‘Corroborating evidence,’ said Ruby, showing Pelles. ‘You weren’t lying about the project, at least.’ Pelles twitched his brow nonchalantly, an element of his ironic manner returning.

On the bed, Claret’s groan rose and rose to a strangled shriek, inhuman and predatory.


End file.
